


I Got Your Note

by knightinwritingarmor



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinwritingarmor/pseuds/knightinwritingarmor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Kirk is living in slow motion. He has no friends, no real relationships, and works the kind of job that makes the adventurer in him want to gag. When he jumps at the chance to fix up the plantation-house of an grumpy country doctor, he has no idea that he has jumped into the greatest adventure of his life. Modern-Setting AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            Get up.  Go to work.  Get home.  Eat dinner.  Go to bed.  Repeat.

            What a boring fucking life.

            James Tiberius Kirk was not one to work in the same place for sixty years, retire, and then die.  He wanted to go out, explore, conquer the world, fall in love.  He wanted to _do_ something; something real, something important.  He didn’t want to work at a manufacturing plant his entire life, doing exactly nothing day after day.  But that’s what he was doing, for now anyway, working in bum-fuck nowhere in Georgia, because he couldn’t live in Iowa anymore, because he had to get away from his stepfather, he had to get away from everything.

            He thought he was going to go to school, he could have gotten an astrophysics degree from Georgia Tech, but those piss poor grades in high school finally came back to bite him, and that rejection letter had been the first of many.  So here he was, making auto parts for minimum wage forty hours a week, and taking night classes at the local community college to try and up his chances for having a halfway decent life. 

            He hated the feeling of running in slow motion, like you do in dreams, and no matter how fast you seem to run, you only go slower.  Even he knew he was working way below his potential, and for a long time, being the only genius repeat offender in the Midwest had been fine.  When he reached his twenties, however, it had become less than ideal, and by the time he was twenty-six, he was absolutely miserable, working dead end-jobs, and screwing every man, woman, and any species that would stand still long enough.  Granted, not much had changed since he’d moved to Georgia; he was still in a dead-end job, still screwing his way through all the bars in the state, and still pretty miserable with his general existence, but he was, at least, away from his mother and Frank.

            He walked into his apartment, which was built specially for the plant workers on the outskirts of town.  He liked the little apartment better than any other living arrangement he could have afforded, but it still stung to have to live under a roof that was built by the very company he wanted so desperately to escape, but he had to pay the bills somehow.

            He threw his bag into one corner, and sat down at his little wooden table.  He pulled out the days paper, and started nonchalantly flipping through it.  It was full of the same; death, destruction, angry letters to the editor, same old, same old…

            He flipped to the classified section, because they were always hilarious to read and once he found a man who was willing to sell him all the furniture in his home for two-hundred dollars and the best ham sandwich he could make, hence the little wooden table he was sitting at.  He was just about to close the paper and make dinner for himself when a little ad in the corner caught his eye.  It was barely two inches long and said,

            _Looking for caretaker of large plantation house and 20 acres of land.  Would include peach-picking, caring for house, and tending flowers and attached garden.  Living arrangements and food included. Payment up for discussion.  Contact Leonard Mccoy, M.D._

            Jim stared at the ad.  It would certainly be a change of scene, the house in question was far outside town, and was secluded with no neighbors in sight of it.  He had seen it several times when he had gone to Atlanta when his mother was there on business.  He had always admired it from a distance, and had certainly always loved being outdoors.  Maybe this was his way out of a completely dead-end job, and living in a cramped place that made him feel like he was about to explode.  It wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t an astrophysicist who was building huge new craft for NASA, but it was something new, and something different.  If he didn’t have to pay for food or a place to live, he could save more of his money, he could attend more classes, or save up more money for travelling the world, which is what he really wanted to do.

            But did he really want to give up his job and his current livelihood.  It sucked, but it was at least steady money, and he wasn’t just at the mercy of one person, which he would be if he tried to take this new job.  He didn’t want to give up any ounce of security he had, because if this job didn’t work out, he had no friends he could ask to stay with, and he was not going to admit defeat and move back to Iowa. 

            This would open a lot of doors for him, in the long run anyway.  It would be interesting and different, and life was really fucking short and he couldn’t just do the same thing forever, not if he wanted to stay sane, anyway.

            He should probably sleep on it, he should probably think about it, consider his options, take the time to figure out if this was actually a good idea, but he was never one for thinking things over.  So he seized his phone, ignoring the fact that it was past midnight, and dialed the number stated in the ad.  The phone rang and rang, and he thought that Dr. McCoy was asleep, or not at home, and just as he was about to hang up, someone picked up the phone.

            “Who in the hell is calling me at this time of night?” a taciturn voice snapped on the other line.

            “Hi!” he knew he was being too bright and too cheerful, but it was time to go big or go home, “Hey, yeah.  This is Jim Kirk and, uh, I was calling about that job you had in the paper.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah, yeah, definitely.  Is it still up for grabs?”

            There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and Jim thought for a split-second that he was too late, but suddenly the man on the other end spoke again,

            “Yeah, it’s still available.  When can you be here?”

            “Does this mean I have the job?”

            “It means I’m considering it.  Now when can you be here?  And answer quick so I can go back to bed.”

            “I can probably be out tomorrow at around ten.”

            “I hope you mean ten in the mornin’, because I’m not gonna be waiting up for you until ten at night.”

            “No, no, in the morning.  Uh, I guess I should ask, am I talking to Dr. McCoy?”

            “Yes you damn well are, and I’ll see you at ten in the morning tomorrow.”

            The line went dead.  Jim observed the phone with raised eyebrows.  Dr. McCoy was certainly not what he expected.  He hoped he wasn’t always that grumpy, and it was just that Jim had woken him up.  Shaking his head slightly, he got up, stretched, and went to get himself dinner.

            The next morning, Jim called in sick at the plant, and was yelled at for a good fifteen minutes by the foreman, who felt that people shouldn’t skip work for mundane things such as bodily illness.

            Jim snuck out to his truck, and pulled out onto the highway, driving past the town and back into the country, where the house he was looking for was. 

            He found the road he was looking for and turned into the long, winding driveway, with a broken down stone gate with a winged griffin on each side.  The driveway was pretty, with trees on each side, but they were pretty badly overgrown, with the foliage almost brushing the top of his truck.  It made the driveway inordinately dark, especially because it was a bright summer day.  He came to a clearing where he assumed the house was, and was more than a little shocked at what he found.

            The ad had said that the house needed to be looked after, but it hadn’t said that it was almost falling down where it stood.  What was once a beautiful stone fountain stood in the center of the courtyard, which was now crumbling like the gate, and covered in moss.  The house itself was surrounded by trees which had long since grown to cover most of the house, so it was even from a distance in clear need of a fresh coat of paint.  There were two wraparound porches one on each floor, and they were both full of cobwebs and who knew what else.

            The garden was partially obscured by the house, but he could see that it had not been tended in years, and was full of weeds.  There was a peach orchard in the distance, which he was sure was just as overgrown.  It looked like he would have his work cut out for him.

            He walked up the broken down stairs of the house onto the porch, which had holes in the floor where the wood had rotted through.  He could only imagine what the inside of the house was going to look like.  He knocked on the door, which, surprisingly, was pristine and clean.  He heard a distant “Come in,” from the depths of the house, and he opened the door.

            What he found inside was, if possible, even more shocking than the outside of the house. 

            The inside of the house was pristine.  Everything was spotless.  The furniture, the walls, the floors, the rugs, even the chandeliers were perfect.  There wasn’t a speck of dust on anything. 

            Jim stared around.  The house was beautiful on the inside, with a double staircase circling around to the front.  Above there was an enormous crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling.  There were doors all around him, and he could see a magnificent drawing room between the staircases.  He only stopped staring around when the same, gruff voice called from the room directly to his right,

            “You can come in.”

            Jim opened the door, and walked into a stunning library.  It was all mahogany with floor to ceiling bookshelves that were all stuffed full.  There was one of those ladders that you usually saw in libraries sitting by one of the shelves.  A large desk was placed in front of a stained glass bay window, and a side table that was stacked with what looked like medical files.  The walls were covered with antique medical tools, and medical papers.  A large corkboard to the side of the window was also covered, but with little notes and yet more pieces of paper. 

            The man sitting in the large leather armchair by the desk was perhaps the biggest shock of everything he had seen so far.  By the way he had sounded and acted on the phone, Jim had thought he was going to be working for an older, retired doctor who was grumpy and decidedly took no shit.  He found that he was going to be working for a man who was only a handful of years older than he was, a doctor who was clearly still in practice, and who was grumpy and decidedly took no shit.

            He stood up when Jim entered, and extended his rough and calloused hand, which was a little odd for being a doctor, and for the outside of the house being in such great disrepair.  He was taller than Jim, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes that were regarding Jim wearily, as though he were taking a great risk by letting him in his home.

            “McCoy.  Leonard McCoy.  And you must be-”

            “Jim Kirk,” Jim finished for him.

            “Well Jim, I guess we better talk business,” he gestured to a chair across from his own.

            “I guess we’d better.”

            “I guess I should start with what you’ll be doing.  I mean, you know the basics, but there’s only so much you can really put in a two inch ad.  You’ll mostly be workin’ outside.  As you can see there’s plenty to do.  The orchard, the garden, the outside of the house, anything you think that needs doing or fixing, that’ll be your job.  There’s stuff that needs doing inside the house too, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.  I’ll be in and out most days, but I should be here every night, unless they drag me to some godforsaken medical conference somewhere.  Like the ad said, you can live and eat here, unless you have somewhere else to live, and if you do, we can up your pay accordingly.  I was thinking, if you’ll be living here, that three hundred to three-fifty is a fair price per month.”

            Jim almost fell out of his chair.  He could save a hell of a lot of money with that kind of pay.  The work might be hard, but it seemed like it would be more than worth it…

            “I’ll take it,” he said, simply.

            Leonard blinked, surprised.

            “Really?”

            “Yeah, when do I move in?”

            “Hold on there, kid, I don’t even have a room ready for you.”

            “That’s okay, I’ll just take whichever’s free.”

            “Won’t have to look too hard, then, they’re all free, apart from mine.”

            “Doesn’t anyone else live-” he pulled up short, worried that he had crossed a line, but McCoy just chuckled a little darkly and said,

            “No, kid, all I got left is my bones.”

            Jim looked at him and said,

            “All right, then when should I move in, Bones?”

            He ignored the new name and muttered,

            “I guess today’ll work, but as long as you don’t need help or anything, I have a patient to see in an hour.”

            “Nah, I can manage myself, I don’t have that much.”

            “Well, then, welcome to the insane and impossible task of caring for this monster, Jim.”

            “Thanks, Bones.”

            He rolled his eyes and Jim grinned, and they shook hands again.  Jim bounded out the door to quit his job and move on with his life at last.

            As predicted, it didn’t take long to move all his possessions into his truck, tell the manager to have a nice life, and leave the smog-filled plant for good.  It wasn’t like he had made a huge change or anything, but, for some reason, Jim felt freer than he had in a long time.  Something was different, something about this was going to be great, and, even though he had no idea what it was, he was excited about it.

            When he arrived back at the big house, there was a note waiting for him on the side table.

_Jim,_

_You’ll be back long before I will, so pick whichever bedroom looks best to you, except, of course, the one that I live in (second floor third door on the right)._

_Leonard_

Jim smiled, and headed upstairs to try and find a place to live.  Two of the bedrooms were pretty but had terrible paint jobs (peach and lavender), and one didn’t have a bed in it.  but, the bedroom on the second floor, second door to the right was just right.  The walls were light blue, the bed looked nice, there was a decent-sized bathroom attached to the room, there was plenty of furniture for him, and, when he cleared out the branches pressing themselves against the window, he was pretty sure he’d have a view of both the garden and the orchard, which would be great once they were spruced up a bit.

            When everything was moved in and put away in its proper place, it was already pretty late, and he was hungry, so he started to wander around the palatial house, trying to locate the kitchen. 

            He finally found it, way at the end of the first floor.  It was spotlessly clean as well, but didn’t look as though much was used in it.  Now, Jim Kirk was no chef, but he was not going to back down from a challenge, and this kitchen was presenting him with one. 

            He pulled out everything he recognized and set to work.

            Several hours and many attempted dishes later, he had concocted a halfway decent dinner.  He ate in the kitchen by himself because, as he had said, Bones wasn’t back yet.  He wondered how long it would take him to get tired of the new nickname, and Jim wasn’t even sure why he decided to give it to him.  Maybe it was because “all I’ve got left are my bones” really stuck with him.

            When he had finished, Jim cleaned up all the dirty dishes, and made a little plate with a plastic wrap cover, and took it up to the library.  He set it on the desk and scribbled a note to Leonard,

            _You don’t just have your Bones any more!_

_Jim_

            He looked at his handiwork, and wondered why on earth he was leaving dinner for a man he had just met, and had just barely started to work for.  Maybe he wanted to be friends with the grumpy old man, for whatever strange reason.  He shrugged it off and went up to bed, eager for morning so he could start his new life.


	2. Chapter 2

When he woke the next morning, it was barely light out, and he stretched and decided it was time to get cracking on all he had to do.  He bounded down the stairs, trying to be quiet in case Bones was still asleep, and went into the kitchen to burn some coffee for himself.  He was surprised at what he found.  There was a pot of coffee already there, with a clean mug sitting there, like it was waiting for him.  He looked around, wondering where Bones was, and then took a sip of the coffee, which was perfectly brewed.  Damn, could that man make coffee.  He had not had coffee that good since he had left Iowa.

            He didn’t have time to wait around for Bones today though, and thank him for the coffee, but grabbed another piece of paper, and scrawled another note saying thanks for the coffee and that he was off to get some supplies to work on the house and garden.

            What he really needed to do was go through the property and make a list of what he needed and what he didn’t, but he was never one to wait to do things, so he jumped in his truck and drove to the nearest home improvement store, where he got a few things that he knew he would need: shears, a ladder, gardening and pruning materials, and a few other odds and ends.  He had a few good tools of his own, and he was sure they would come in handy, but he was more worried about pruning the trees around the house today.  Maybe, if he could actually see the house, he could get a better idea of what needed the most attention.

            By the time he got back to the house, he could see Bones sitting at his desk by the bay window, and he waved and cried out jovially,

            “Morning, Bones!”

            He could see Bones roll his eyes even from a distance, and he grinned to himself.

            As he worked, Bones came and went throughout the day, and he always made a point to wave at him and cry, “Seeya Bones!” at his retreating back. 

            Pruning the trees around the house had ended up being much more difficult than he had anticipated.  Some of the trees had actually grown into the antique windows, so that he needed to actually go pry them open (which was difficult because some of them had been painted shut and others were so stiff that he simply could not get them open).  He realized at around six that he wasn’t going to be able to get any more done without more tools, and he dragged the few branches that he was able to prune to the edge of the garden, and he put up the ladder behind a small, rusted-out shed near the orchard, and stripped off the gloves he’d been using to work.  Considering he had gone into today’s project completely blind, he had made decent progress.

            He entered the house and savored the cool air conditioning on his face.  It may have been spring in Georgia, but it was still humid as hell already.  He poked his head around the library door and saw Bones sitting there, reading a file with such concentration his forehead looked like you could plant cotton on it.

            “Hey Bones, looks like the trees around the house are going to be a bitch to prune, so I’ll need to go back to the store tomorrow, any way you could spot me the money?”

            He looked up, and there was such a look of blank concern on his face that Jim thought he must have cut the hell out of his face and not even noticed.

            “You went to this store today?  Jim, just _tell_ me if you’re going and I’ll give you the money, I’m paying you after all, I’m not going to make you use your own money to pay for things the house needs.”

            “Okay, okay, I just couldn’t find you this morning and I wanted to get going.”

            Bones put down his file.

            “You don’t slow down much, do you, kid?”

            “Nope, and neither do you, if how many times a day you leave the house is any indication.”

            “It can be hard being a travelling doctor.  Everyone I take care of is in the county, but it’s a big county, so it can get a little tiring, but that’s my job.  You just don’t seem to slow down for anything.”

            “No, not really, it’s not really my style.”

            “And you can’t cook worth a damn either.”

            Jim grinned and shot back,

            “My talents lie outside the kitchen.”

            “Yeah, that much is obvious.  So I’ll make you a deal, kid.  I make the food, if you do the laundry.  You can do laundry, can’t you?”

            “Of course I can do laundry,” Jim huffed, “I have lived on my own before, Bones.”

            “Could have fooled me,” he muttered and Jim laughed.

            That night, Leonard cooked for what he said was the first time in years.

            “I don’t have anyone to cook for,” he shrugged when Jim asked him why.

            He made good southern food, like, _really_ good southern food.  Collard greens, green beans, black-eyed peas, biscuits, and a side of ham that he had pulled out of the depths of the freezer.  Jim had never been picky about what he ate, and loaded his plate with everything.

            McCoy watched him as he ate, picking at his own plate, which was full of greens.

            “You eat like a cow.”

            Jim looked up and shrugged,

            “’M hungry.”

            “Really?  I couldn’t tell.”

            Jim rolled his eyes and continued to eat.  He only came up for air when his plate was clean.  Bones was still watching him, also with a clean plate, with one eyebrow cocked in a _how the hell do you eat like that?_ sort of way. 

            “My mama would be mad as hell, but I don’t have anything sweet to offer you.”

            Jim laughed, and he saw Bones face lift a little, making him look years younger.

            “I’ll let you off the hook this time, Bones.”

            “I’ll do the dishes if you stop calling me ‘Bones.’”

            Jim grinned again and picked up his and Bones’ plates.

            “Not gonna happen, Bones.”

            They spent the rest of the evening in the library.  Bones had insisted that Jim use the house just like it was his own,

            “It’s too goddamn empty in this house, might as well act like you’re livin’ in it.”

            Jim spent the time looking at all the books Bones had.  There were medical journals, history books, and lots and lots of fiction.  He wouldn’t have pegged Bones as a big fiction reader, but then, he wasn’t sure that this entire library was solely full of Bones’ personal books, especially the section filled with things like _A Little Princess_ , _The Chronicles of Narnia_ , and _The Little White Horse_.  It was pretty obvious that Bones was not married, but then what would all these books be doing here if not for a little kid?

            At about eleven-thirty, Bones’ cell-phone rang, and he spent the next five minutes discussing what a person’s symptoms were and what the best course of action was for their treatment.  Finally, he said, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” and hung up, simultaneously grabbing his bag which was by his chair.

            “Bones, what the hell?  It’s eleven-thirty.”

            “Yeah, and I have a patient who is six years old and has the flu.”

            “Don’t normal doctors have hours?”

            “Yes, they do, but this little boy needs a doctor’s treatment, and he needs it now.  I’m not going to sit here and stew in the fact that that little boy needs my help and I’m sitting in my house because it’s ‘too late at night’ or it’s ‘past my hours.’  If someone needs my help, they’re going to receive it, not matter how late it is.”

            Jim wasn’t sure what to say to this proclamation. 

            “Okay Bones.”

            He said nothing else, but turned and rushed out the door, leaving Jim thinking about the fact that he was probably working for the most selfless person in the universe.  He had never met anyone that would drop everything they were doing at any time of night to take care of another person that they only knew casually.  There was a lot more to Bones than the grumpy exterior.

            He wasn’t going to wait up for the man, though, so he went to bed, and fell asleep wondering how many times Bones had gotten a decent night’s sleep in the past year.  Probably not very many.

            When Jim got up the next morning, Bones was, once again, nowhere in sight.  There was, however, another empty mug next to the coffee pot in the kitchen and a note on the counter with several hundred dollars in cash under it.  _Don’t go out gambling with this money, kid.  Leonard._

            Laughing to himself, Jim downed his coffee, and scribbled _I can’t make any promises, Bones.  Jim._   and then headed into town to get what he needed for the day’s work.

            That day was even hotter than the one before, but he might as well get used to it, with summer coming around.  He managed to get more of the trees pruned, but left the large magnificent magnolia tree untouched.  He thought that it was a little farther from the house than the other trees, and if he could clean up all the fallen leaves under it, it would be a fantastic place to put a bench or a couple of chairs, at least until the porches were in a somewhat better condition. 

            When Bones reappeared, he left almost immediately for an old woman who was having trouble with one of her eyes, or so he told Jim as he headed to his car.  By the time he returned, Jim had cleared all the trees on the south side of the house, where the bedrooms were.  He went upstairs to take a quick break and view his handiwork.  The view from his window was much improved over what it had been, but he could already tell that it had exposed the deplorable paint job on the house, and the fact that the windows needed work as well.  You don’t own an old house without a myriad of problems, he supposed.

            He spent the remainder of the afternoon dragging the piles of wood towards the designated spot he had for them.  He needed to have a nice cloudy day at some point, so he could start a burn for the wood that wasn’t usable as fire wood.

            When he had finished, he looked back at the house, and he had to admit it looked much better.  Now the house was at least visible, and by the time he was done with it, he was positive that the outside of the house would look just as good as the inside.

            He padded into the house, probably dripping sweat all over the fancy carpet, and went upstairs for a well-deserved shower.  When he got out of the shower, there was another note sitting by his door.

            _The house looks great.  I can finally see out of my window.  Need to go check on a patient, but won’t be back for a while.  I made you a sandwich for dinner because I don’t want you to burn down my kitchen in your sad attempts to create edible food._

_Leonard_

            Jim looked down at the note and wondered if this would be the way they would be primarily communicating; through snarky little notes and doing little things for each other throughout the house.  Funnily enough, Jim was pretty sure he could get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, beta'd by TheCaitlin.


	3. Chapter 3

            As the weeks went by, and Jim got used to living in the house, he got used to his co-inhabitant’s strange ways as well.  Bones loved to disappear early in the morning, and Jim had never been able to figure out where he went.  He was usually gone for a few hours, and then came back sweaty and looking happier than Jim usually saw him.  Bones also apparently had some trouble sleeping.  Jim would hear him get up in the middle of the night and go downstairs, no doubt to keep working on some patient’s file that he wasn’t quite satisfied with.  Jim had never met anyone who was so devoted to their work.  It was pretty much all he ever did, except occasionally have dinner with Jim.  It was admirable, but a little strange, because Bones seemed to have no life outside of his work.

            It seemed like Bones was making more of an effort, however, to have dinner with Jim on a more regular basis.  These were the times where they learned a little more about each other, other than their own handwriting, which is all they gleaned from the notes that they left for each other many times a day.  They had become the main way of communication throughout the day, and Jim grew to like it the longer he lived in the house.

            Their meals were a different affair.  Jim never stopped talking during dinner, and only paused to eat and occasionally listen to something Bones had to say, which wasn’t much.  He seemed to prefer to listen to Jim, his constant chattering about his dreams, his life at the plant, anything that wasn’t really important, like so many friends do.  But sometimes, Jim wanted to tell Bones why he left Iowa, about his father, his mother, his brother, Frank, why he loved the outside, why he talked so much.  It didn’t even make sense why he wanted to tell Bones these things, they barely knew each other, and communicated mostly through notes scribbled on the back of receipts and napkins. 

            He had, despite how quiet the man was, managed to obtain some information about him.  He had attended school at Ole Miss, and had been married and divorced.  He would not talk about his ex or his marriage at all and sometimes resorted to asking about various project on the house if he felt he was being backed into a corner on a certain subject.  Jim found out that the house had been in his family for generations, but there were parts that Bones wouldn’t talk about, like why the outside had gone so downhill.  There was a lot he didn’t know about Bones, but he hoped that, eventually, he’d be able to figure it out.

            And, eventually, he started to.  The meals got better as time went on, he found out more about Bones, and Bones found out more about him, and, eventually, the meals were actually the most important part of the day.  Bones hardly ever missed a dinner any more, and would always leave one of his notes explaining why if he did.  They weren’t just living together anymore; they were friends, good friends.  Jim could make Bones smile, and, very occasionally make him laugh.  He still didn’t know much about his family, or his really personal life, but he felt like he knew Leonard McCoy better than most people did.

            Bones knew him, too.  He knew how to make Jim eat more greens than starch, he knew how Jim always cleaned his plate as though it was a race, and he knew why he always showered at night.  He knew about Jim’s love of travelling, and his love for the outdoors.

            They knew details about each other that only living together could reveal.  Jim knew how Bones liked his socks folded, and Bones knew how warm Jim liked his coffee.  They laughed at shitty late night television, when Jim could pull Bones away from his work for a few minutes, and Bones made Jim watch SportsCenter so he could keep up with recruiting announcements for Ole Miss football.  It was easy, surprisingly easy, and he could tell that Bones was more comfortable living in his own house than he had been in a long time, even though he would never admit it. 

            Jim still didn’t know where Bones went every morning, but he would find his much there each day, nonetheless.  Bones had bought Jim his own mug when he first started working there.  It was blue, like Jim’s eyes, and had an outline of the world across it.  There was usually a note from Bones attached to it, which could be as simple as _good morning_ to _If you don’t do laundry soon I am not responsible for the mass burning of all of your clothing._ Jim would always make a point to scribble something back, from _have a great day, Bonesy!_ to _I’ll do the laundry if you get milk_. Jim loved Bones’ dry sense of humor, and the day didn’t feel right if he hadn’t received at least one note from Bones during the day.

            Jim had managed to prune all of the trees around the house and most of the trees in the long, winding driveway by the time fall rolled around.  It may have taken him over six months, but all the trees in the driveway and around the house were perfectly manicured.  The driveway had been mowed, and he had fixed up the gate so that it didn’t look so broken-down.  There was a large stack of firewood by the broken-down shed, which would be great for winter.  The magnificent fire places in the house looked as though they hadn’t been touched in years, and Jim had always thought there was nothing more calming than a roaring fire in the winter.

            Bones had started telling him off every time he found him in a wife-beater or a shirt with no sleeves,

            “It’ll give you skin cancer, being out in the sun like that for so long!” he would cry, and made Jim go put on enough sunscreen for him to feel like a greased pig. 

            The house was looking better every day, and one day when he had finally finished the trees in the driveway, he took a day off and made a list of everything else that had to be done.  The house needed a new coat of paint badly, some of the windows wouldn’t open anymore and a few of the panes of glass were cracked.  The orchard still needed to be dealt with, though Jim had gone down to check on the peaches and pick a few of the ripe ones already.  He hoped that he could convince Bones to make a peach pie.  He needed to mow the yard and weed the garden before he even thought of planting anything.  He figured he’d leave the garden until the end, because it was far too late to plant anything.  The garden would have to wait until next spring.  The porches were in terrible shape and needed to be patched and even replaced in some places.  There were cobwebs and bugs living everywhere outside and a can of bug spray needed to be taken to them.  And then there were the projects he wanted to do himself, like rebuilding the shed to actually hold tools, and to try and make some furniture for under the magnolia tree and the porches.  Jim had always been good at making things, and had made some pieces of furniture when he was a teenager, which he was pretty sure Frank had destroyed when he’d left.

            His mother had no idea that he’d quit his job and moved, but for now it was better that way.  She wouldn’t understand why he left the steady work at the plant for something as mundane as what she would consider yard work.  She had always been a successful business woman, and he was fine with that, but she didn’t understand his need to be outside and doing something, even if it was as simple as pruning trees all day.  And she wouldn’t understand Bones.  She would think it was strange, living with his boss, and passing little notes to each other.  She would probably snipe at him about his decision-making, as she had done for years.  He knew that she loved him, but she had never been able to understand him.  She had always wanted him to be a lawyer or a big-wig executive, and that just wasn’t who he was.  That had been his brother, but not him, and she had never been able to accept that.

            One night, in mid fall, when the weather had just started to turn cool, Jim had just gotten back from the store to pick up a few gallons of paint for the house, when he heard Bones on the phone with somebody.  He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he wasn’t sure how to avoid it either.

            “Jocelyn, this is so beyond short notice, I-…Of course I want to see her it’s just that-… The house is livable, Jocelyn, you know that, but it doesn’t look too pretty right-… No, no, don’t send her to a babysitter for two weeks, you know she’ll-… I understand that you need to go for work, but I have a job as-… My job is pretty onerous; I am a doctor-… Yes, I-… All right, all right, when are you going to be-… What d’you mean tomorrow?  Jocelyn that’s-… Okay, okay.  Tomorrow, then.”

            Jim sauntered in the door and looked at Bones, who was sitting with his head in his hands in the library.

            “What was all that about?” he asked, not even bothering to pretend that he hadn’t heard.

            “My, my ex-wife is comin’ out here tomorrow.  Apparently there’s a big law case up in New York City, and she needs someone to watch Joanna, and obviously I want to see her, it’s just _look_ at the state of the house.  I mean, that’s nothing against you, things like this take time, obviously, but it’s just that Jocelyn likes to judge by appearances, that’s just what she does.  And she worries constantly that I won’t take care of Jo, and I will, I always do, I just wish the house looked better, because it would give Jocelyn one less thing to complain about.

            That was probably the most Bones had ever said about his personal life, and Jim stared at him, not sure of what to say.  He settled on what he thought would be a pretty safe question,

            “Who’s Joanna?”

            “My daughter.  Since Jocelyn’s a lawyer, she knew how to play the judge in order for her to get full custody during the divorce.  I haven’t seen Joanna, except for occasional Skype calls, since she was four.  She’s seven, about to turn eight I guess, in a few weeks.  Maybe the case will drag and I can have her for her birthday…”

            He trailed off, obviously lost in thought and thinking about his daughter.  Jim set down the paint cans and muttered, more to himself than to Bones.

            “I guess it depends on what time they’re supposed to get here, but I could at least get the front of the house painted, and maybe do something to patch those obvious holes on the porch.  It would be a stretch, but I could do that.  I wouldn’t have time to prime it or anything, but just a base coat would be fine, there’s not supposed to be any rain or anything.”

            “Do, do you think you could?  I mean, I’m in no place to ask you to do that, you need to work at your own pace, at your own time, but-“

            “Nah, Bones, I can get it done, as long as they aren’t getting here until the afternoon.”

            Bones looked as though an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

            “Thanks, Jim,” he said, gripping him on the arm, “It’ll just make me feel a little bit better about Jocelyn comin’ around again.”

            “How long have you been divorced?” Jim asked over dinner, which Bones had thrown together in twenty minutes, because he had been trying to find the ladder so he could dust the chandeliers.  Bones looked up, looking slightly uncomfortable again, and clearly wanting to change the subject.

            “About five years,” he said, shortly, making it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it, but Jim was tired of dancing around the sensitive subjects, he wanted to _know_ Bones, really know him, and he wasn’t going to get that if they constantly changed the subject when one of them got uncomfortable.

            “How’d you meet her?  Jocelyn, I mean.”

            Bones looked as if he wanted to be talking about anything else, but he looked at Jim’s stubborn, earnest face and sighed.

            “You really want to hear this story, kid?”

            “Yeah, Bones, I really do.”

            “Well, we met at school.  She was on the law track, and I was med track, but we were introduced by a mutual friend.  Of course my mother was over the moon about her; pretty, her family had money, she was educated, and she was clever.  She was everything I was supposed to want.  Her family loved me too, it was perfect, the perfect relationship, and I thought I was happy.  The only one who didn’t just love Joce was my father.  He saw through her, I think, and he tried to tell me what she really was, but I didn’t listen.  I was too convinced that I should get married and have 2.5 children to listen. 

            “We got married just after I graduated med school and she law school.  We were happy for about a year, when we had just had Joanna, and I had started working at a good practice.  But then the fighting started.  Almost every night, when I would come home, she would start screaming that I was never there enough and that Joanna was getting in the way of her career.  She said a lot of things, and I said a lot of things right back, and it continued that way for over three years.  Nights of screaming and then stretches of long silence.  I could never decide which one I hated more.  I don’t know how Joanna did it, with us either fighting or not talking.  But I was prepared to stick with that train wreck of a marriage forever; I had said my vows and I meant them.  Until I walked in on her with my best friend from med school.  That was the line for me.  I packed my stuff that night and left, and she filed for divorce the next day.  She married him, too, but they got divorced only a few months later.

            “I think it’s always been hard on Jo, with me suddenly gone.  Her mother never really explained what happened; I don’t think she wanted to admit it.  She used to ask me when I was coming home when we would talk on the phone, and one day I had to be the one to explain why I wasn’t there anymore.  It pissed Jocelyn off; she called me and told me that I wasn’t to call Joanna anymore, and that if I did she’d make me regret it.  So, what could I do?  I backed off, and I’ve only talked to my baby girl a few times the past four years.  It’s been hard, I’ll be honest, and that’s why I jumped at the chance to have her here.  So, there you go kid, that’s part of my sad, sad story.”

            Jim watched Bones, who looked as though he hadn’t talked about this in a long, long time.  His shoulders were slumped as though talking about it had taken everything out of him.  He thought that he might be about to cry.  Jim reached out and, not sure what made him do it, grabbed Bones’ hand.

            “Hey Bones, it’s okay.  You didn’t do anything wrong-“

            “But I let her take my baby away; I let her be raised completely without a father. I-I- How could I do that to her?”

            He was crying in earnest now, and Jim had no idea what to do.  He leaned forward and awkwardly hugged his shoulders.  Bones buried his head into Jim’s chest and dear god this was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to Jim and what was he doing and why was he so comfortable with this, what was happening to him?  He did mindless sex; he didn’t do emotions, that wasn’t the Jim Kirk way.  Bones’ shoulders were shaking and it made Jim wonder when the last time he had cried in front of anyone.  He cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, and Jim just patted him on the back, trying not to think about what he was doing or why he was doing it or the emotional repercussions this could have.

            When Bones finally hiccupped into silence, Jim let go of him and settled for taking his hand again.  He hoped Bones saw it as a gesture of solidarity.  He wouldn’t look at Jim, but wiped his face hastily on his sleeve.

            “’M sorry,” he sniffed, still not looking at Jim,

            “It’s okay,” Jim said, looking at the floor, “I-I should probably get to bed, I’ll be up early tomorrow.”

            “Yeah,” Bones said simply, staring anywhere but at Jim.

            Jim stood up, not sure what else he could do, and left the kitchen.  As he walked away, he saw Bones pull out a bottle of bourbon from a cabinet and pour himself a glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: TheCaitlin


	4. Chapter 4

            The next morning, Jim went downstairs and found his customary mug next to a note.

            _I’ll be gone for a while.  I have my phone if you really need me.  Sorry about last night._

_Leonard_

            Jim picked up his mug and sipped the coffee.  He didn’t really want to think about what had happened last night.  It had been weird.  He had been weird about it.  He and Bones were friends, but that had felt a lot more intimate than just friends.  Were they more than just friends?  Could they grow to be?  Jim had always had an extremely fluid sexuality, but he had no idea if Bones did or not.  He had been married, and to a woman.  That could easily mean that he wasn’t into men at all.  But sometimes they would share a glance, or he would catch Bones staring at him through his window as Jim worked, and Jim would be sure that Bones may be a little more fluid than he appeared.  He tried to shake it off, he wanted to be normal, and not make things weird between him and Bones.  If he was being honest, Bones was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time, and he didn’t want to lose that.  But he was starting to realize that he may have fallen for his best friend.  What was going on? This wasn’t him.  He didn’t get attached.  For him, it was a quick fuck and that was the end of it.  He hadn’t had a long term relationship in, well, ever.  This was not what he had signed up for.  He had money in the bank now, and even though he had given up those night classes, he was saving to go travelling.  He didn’t need this.  But, he couldn’t deny that things were different when he was around Bones.  He felt more in control when Bones was around, like he was able to sit still for more than five seconds.  He was calm around Bones.  He could tell Bones anything, of that he was sure.  He was sure that Bones was his best friend, and he hadn’t had many of those in his life, but it was more than that, more than anything Jim had bargained for when he answered that ad.  Shit.

            Jim tried to shake it off, and tried to focus on painting the house, and not his growing emotional turmoil.  He had picked a white for the house.  It seemed best, it wasn’t too bright and didn’t attract the eyes too much; the house itself did enough of that.  He managed to get the entire front and the visible side of the house done before Bones came around the corner and called,

            “They’ll be here in fifteen minutes!”

            Jim climbed down from the ladder, put away the paint and the brushes, and sprinted into the house to get cleaned up.  By the time he had scrubbed all of the visible paint off himself and gone downstairs, he saw a shiny car sitting in the driveway.  It had, apparently just pulled up, because Bones was standing next to it, as a little blonde girl got out of the car and threw herself into Bones’ arms.  Smiling, Jim headed outside to see if he could help at all, and to introduce himself.

            Jim approached the woman who must be Jocelyn.  She was also blonde, but had an upturned nose and some of the coldest eyes he had ever seen.  She stared at him, and then thrust two bags into his hand.

            “I see you finally hired some help around here, Leonard.  That’s a godsend.  God knows you need the help.  This place would be an absolute pigsty if you took care of it by yourself.”

            Jim could not believe what he was hearing.  Never had he heard someone speak to another person with such blatant contempt and loathing.  And Bones just stood there, holding his daughter, and said nothing.

            It was all Jim could do to not start yelling at her, but he was supposed to be making a good impression, and he didn’t want Jocelyn to take Joanna away from Bones, not when Bones was looking happier than Jim had ever seen him.  So he said nothing, and they all walked into the house, Joanna talking a mile a minute, and Jocelyn looking as though she had had something smelly put under her nose. 

            Jim had managed to patch up the porch relatively well, and had gotten the most obvious cobwebs down.  There was no furniture on it as of yet, but he hadn’t had time to get started on that project yet.

            Jocelyn didn’t stay long, which was a blessing, but stated that she needed to catch a flight to start her case.  She hugged Joanna, and told her to call if she needed anything, nodded to Bones, and ignored Jim completely.

            Joanna kept talking and talking.  They moved to the library, where she moved directly to the shelf of books containing children’s books.  She picked out one, ran back to Bones, and cried,

            “Daddy, Daddy, will you read this one to me at bedtime?”

            “Of course, baby girl.  But right now, I have someone I want you to meet, this is Jim.  He lives here now and he’ll be with us while you’re staying here.  Is that okay?”

            Joanna nodded, and timidly went up to Jim, who immediately sunk into a low bow and said, in his most professional voice,

            “Lady Joanna, I am here to cater to your every whim.  I am but your humble servant, should you need anything, please call upon Jim, and I will do anything that you wish.”

            She giggled profusely, and any tension that had been in the room was gone.  Apparently she was one to immediately try her luck because she said,

            “Can I have a cookie?”

            Bones tried to say something, but Jim cut him off,

            “A cookie for the Lady Joanna!  Right away, my lady, right away!”

            He bounded towards the kitchen, listening to Joanna’s giggles the whole way. 

            He returned a minute later with a cookie, to find Joanna on the floor, chattering away once again about school and her friends and how she liked the country much better than the city, and that Mommy’s friend was always over at her house, and she didn’t like him at all.

            She was distracted by the cookie, and darted up the stairs to the bedroom where they had put her luggage.  Bones was surveying him with an unreadable expression on his face.

            “What?” said Jim, sitting down in the chair next to Bones.

            “Nothing, she just seems to really like you.”

            “Well who wouldn’t like me, Bones?  I mean, look at me, I’m awesome!”

            Bones simply rolled his eyes, but then grabbed Jim’s hand.  Jim tried to act normally.  It was probably just platonic, things that friends do, nothing more.  He couldn’t afford to get his hopes up that there was more there, that was a dangerous path to go down, and usually only one filled with heartache. 

            “Thanks for this, Jim.  It means more to me than you can know.”

            “Yeah.  Sure, Bones.  Anytime,” he said, hoping he sounded normal and not like a lovesick puppy.

            Bones smiled at him, ran his thumb over Jim’s hand, and got up to help Joanna unpack.

            Joanna was a joy to have in the house.  She brought light to everything, and ran all over the property, telling Bones he needed to get this, or add that to make it prettier, and would watch Jim paint, and help by painting the lowest parts of the house with the paintbrush he had given her.  She’d taken to calling him “Uncle Jim,” which made him feel like part of a family he wasn’t really supposed to have.

            They would go out in the afternoons to see movies, go to the zoo, or go bowling.  Joanna insisted that Jim go with them; she had taken a liking to him and wanted to follow him everywhere.  Jim could not say he minded.  While they were out, Joanna would talk the whole time, and Jim would savor the time he had with them both.  He kept trying to push his growing feelings for Bones down, but that was like pushing a blossoming rose back into its bud.  He started noticing everything Bones did, from the way he held his mouth when Joanna laughed, to the way he looked when he was reviewing a patient’s file.  He’d sneak in to watch him cook, watch him read to Jo at bedtime, watch him talk on the phone to someone with an ailment.  God, what was happening to him?

            One morning, Jim was awoken by a crash coming from outside the house.  He bolted upright in bed, thinking Joanna had gone outside and something had fallen on top of her.  He sprinted down the stairs, only in boxers and boots.  He couldn’t find anything in the yard, but was sure the noise hadn’t come from the orchard.  He ran up a path he had never been down before, and came to something he had never expected to see.

            There was a barn, complete with riding arena, with a separate area from jumping and paths wending their way into the dense woods.  There was Bones, dressed for riding, trying to pick a pole from a jump up off the ground.  There was a grey horse standing next to him, looking utterly content.  Jim walked down the hill and leaned on the opposite fence, watching Bones put the pole back in place and jump on the horse effortlessly.  He didn’t even notice Jim.

            Bones jumped, circled, then jumped again, and there was a peace on his face that Jim had never seen there before.  He watched him for almost ten minutes before Bones turned and saw him, standing there in his boxers, watching him.  He pulled up, and said,

            “What on earth are you doing?”

            “What do you think?  Watching you.”

            “You’re gonna freeze dressed like that.”

            “Is this what you do every morning?”

            “Yes, it brings me peace, which is more than I get when I hang around you.  I’ll drag you up to the house myself if you don’t get dressed.”

            “Bones, it’s barely fall, don’t worry about me, pretend I’m not here.”

            “Good grief Jim, go put some clothes on, I was just finishing anyway.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me this was back here?”

            “You didn’t ask.”

            “Oh that’s a great excuse.  I also didn’t ask if there were any dead bodies stowed away in the attic, is that something I should know?”

            Bones grinned at him and said,

            “Get dressed, infant.”

            Jim walked back to the house, grinning from ear to ear the whole way.

            That day was full of good news, it turned out that Jocelyn’s case was taking longer than expected, and she would have to be in New York for Joanna’s birthday.  Bones would get to spend Jo’s birthday with her for the first time in five years.  Joanna was ecstatic about the news, and began talking about all the things they could do on her birthday and all the things they could see. 

            That night, after Joanna had gone to bed, Jim and Bones began planning the day.  They decided a movie, the zoo, the toy store, dinner at a restaurant and dessert at home would make any eight year old happy.  Bones was happy; he couldn’t stop smiling, and kept nudging Jim with his shoulder as they planned.  Jim kept grinning at him, and trying to hide his own happiness behind plans for Joanna’s day.  The truth was, he had never felt more domestic, or happier in his life.  Life with Bones and Joanna was a dream, and he loved it more than he could say.

            Jo’s birthday went off without a hitch.  Jim woke her up with a mug of hot chocolate and a pink tiara.  She squealed and put it on right away.  They did everything they had planned, and Joanna got to pick out two toys she wanted from the toy store (one from Jim and one from Bones), and after dinner, they took her home for ice cream and put their birthday girl to bed.

            “I love you, Daddy,” she said, sleepily, as Bones tucked her in, Jim leaning against the doorframe.

            “And I love you, my baby girl,” Bones whispered, kissing her on the forehead.

            “I love you, Uncle Jim,” she said, as Jim was just about to turn off the light.  He smiled, walked over to her, and kissed her on the forehead as well and said,

            “And I love you, my lady Joanna.”

            She giggled and her eyes fluttered shut.  Jim got up and turned off the light.

            He went downstairs to find Bones with a glass of bourbon, sitting in his chair, with the bottle and an empty glass on the table.  Jim walked over to the table, poured himself a glass and sat down next to Bones.

            “I think she had a good birthday.”

            “You think?” asked Bones, looking at Jim.

            “Yeah, I really do.”

            “You make her happy, Jim.  I really think she loves you.”

            “I’m pretty sure you make her happy too, Bones.  No one could have a better father.”

            Bones stared into his glass, smiling into it.

            “You’ve, you’ve made a big difference here, Jim.”

            “It’s just a few coats a paint.”

            “That’s not what I mean.”

            Jim looked at him.  Bones was staring at him, earnestly, looking at him in a way that was hard to read. 

            “Okay, and a few trees too.”

            “You know that’s not what I mean, moron.  I mean, you’ve made a difference in the way this house _feels_ , a difference in how I feel when I get up in the morning.  I don’t feel like I’m going to fall to pieces every day anymore.  I don’t feel like I’m a failure for giving up my baby girl, or a failure because of what I did to my father.  I feel, dammit Jim I feel _better_ with you around.”

            Jim paused for a minute.  This is exactly what he wanted.  Bones was saying what he’d hoped he’d say for weeks.  He wanted to phrase his response right, so he didn’t screw it up and ruin everything.

            “Would it weird you out if I said you did the same thing for me, Bones?”

            Bones’ entire face lit up with a smile.  They stared at each other for what felt like forever, until Bones leaned forward and trapped Jim’s lips in a kiss.  It was slow and romantic and _sensual_ , something Jim had never been into before.  He tasted like bourbon and soap and _Bones_ and it felt so right and Jim can’t even think of one reason to regret this, not when he was kissing Bones and Bones was kissing him.  Bones was the one that deepened the kiss and twined their tongues together, his hand pulling at Jim’s hair, and his hands on either side of Jim’s face.  Bones was pushing Jim into his chair, and Jim could tell he was well on his way to straddling him.  But they can’t do this right now, not with Joanna upstairs, with the danger that she might have a nightmare from all the food she ate and run downstairs to find them this way. 

            Jim pulled away, and Bones looked surprised, but he simply whispered, “Joanna,” and he understood.  They broke apart, and, not saying anything, went upstairs to their respective bedrooms without another word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my beta is TheCaitlin.


	5. Chapter 5

            Jim was awake most of the night, thinking about what had just happened.  He wanted it, and he wanted Bones, but he wasn’t sure about the whole actual relationship thing, if that was what this was going to become.  He had never done anything like an actual relationship before, and he didn’t know if he’d be good at it, or able to give Bones what he needed and deserved.  Jim was a royal fuck-up, he had never been able to provide anything for anyone but himself.  But now was not the time to start second-guessing himself.  He rolled over, and dreamed that night about Bones, his smile, and, most importantly, his lips.

            Joanna was picked up by Jocelyn the next week.  She cried when she left, told her mother she didn’t want to go, hugged her father, hugged Jim, told them she loved them, and was hoisted into the car by a scowling Jocelyn.

            “You can come visit anytime, baby girl,” Bones said, looking pointedly at Jocelyn, who faked a smile and nodded noncommittally.  It wasn’t the best reaction, but Joanna had had such a good time, that it would be difficult for Jocelyn to keep her away, especially as she got older.  This is what Jim told Bones as they watched the car pull out of the driveway.  Bones leaned against Jim at little, more for moral support than anything else, and Jim’s hand snaked into Bones’, and Bones put his head on Jim’s shoulder.  The past week had been full of little things like that, holding hands when Jo wasn’t looking, little touches, caresses that could have been seen as mistakes or brushing past one another too close.  They had also exchanged more notes from each other than usual.  Jim would always find one when he woke in the morning, and they would find little excuses throughout the day to put them anywhere where the other might find them.

            Dinner the night that Joanna left was a tad more subdued than usual; Bones was quiet, and Jim let him get lost in his own thoughts, thinking they could both use some quiet, since the last few weeks had been anything but. 

            When Jim got up to clear the table, Bones sat up straight and said,

            “Jim, I’ve been thinking, and I-I was wondering if maybe, you and I could have dinner sometime.”

            Jim grinned,

            “Isn’t that what we just did, Bones?”

            “You know what I mean, infant.  I mean me taking you out, somewhere nice to eat.”

            “Are you asking me out on a date, Bones?”

            “I would be if you didn’t keep bein’ a brat about it.”

            “Okay then Bones, when were you thinking of having the dinner?”

            “Whenever you stop bein’ a pain in my ass.”

            “So never.”

            Bones laughed, and Jim reveled in the sound.  Bones’ laugh was deep, throaty, and completely infectious.  Jim laughed with him, and Bones said he would “get back to him” on dinner.  Jim liked this, he may not be sure about it, but he really liked it.

            Several days later, Jim woke to find a note taped to his door.

                        _Be downstairs at 6:30.  Dress nicely._

            He tried to ignore the swelling in his chest and went outside to go paint.

            The house was almost completely painted.  After Jocelyn had left, he had primed and then painted the house, and went over with a topcoat to seal it all in.  It gave the house new life, and made it look a little more like the spotless inside the outside contained. 

            Bones was gone most of the day, looking after a young woman who had had some complications after giving birth, and had called Bones for help.  He finally came home at about five-thirty, and went directly into the house “to get ready.”

            Jim looked down at himself and saw that he was, once again, covered in paint.  He hopped off the ladder, put the equipment away, and walked inside to get cleaned up.

            An hour later, he came downstairs, dressed in a blue button-down shirt and black pants, neither of which he had worn in over a year.  Bones was standing by the door, waiting for him, dressed in a white-button down that stretched across his broad shoulders in a way that should probably be illegal.

            He grinned at Jim as he came down the stairs, and held out his hand for him to take, which felt entirely romantic and for some reason made Jim feel vulnerable.  He had never been in this territory before; he was out of his comfort zone.  He was normally the picture of confidence, but now he felt shaky and nervous and it was a god-dammed date, he wasn’t headed to the guillotine.  He though Bones could see his nervousness, because he chucked a little before leading Jim to his truck.

            “So where are we going, anyway?”

            “Somewhere nice, I promise,” Bones said with a smirk, and it looked like he was enjoying this entirely too much.

            The “somewhere nice” turned out to be an Italian place on the very edge of town.  It was tiny, cramped, and the people there obviously knew Bones.  He smiled at them as they shook his hand and clapped him on the back and showed him to his “usual table,” which was in the corner and quite secluded.

            “Friends of yours?” asked Jim as they were left alone with the bread and their menus.

            “Yeah, I helped out the owner with a foot problem and they feel they’re indebted to me now.  They’re really sweet people and make great food, so I figured-“

            “No, no it’s really great, Bones.”

            They ordered their food, and discussed little things, like Bones’ work, the house, and the potential for Joanna’s next visit.

            By the time the food arrived, they had turned to more personal subjects; things that they had not discussed or would even think of discussing before Joanna’s visit.  Things were different now, however, and they were trying to be more honest with each other, and learn a little more than how they liked each other’s laundry.

            “You never talk about your family Jim,” Bones said, as Jim ate spaghetti and meatballs and Bones chewed on vegetable ravioli.  Jim stiffened a little.  He didn’t like to talk about his family.  He had only just told his mother about his move and job change, and she had acted as predicted:

            “What on earth are you thinking, Jim.  You had a steady job and you were attending school why are you so bent on throwing your future away.  Now you are nothing more than a glorified gardener.  Is that what you want out of life, Jim?  To be painting houses for the rest of your life?  Honestly, Jim, this is not what I expected to here when you called me today, and I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed.”

            Jim played with his food, but Bones had been honest with him about his family, so he might as well return the favor.

            “I don’t really talk about my family if I can help it, they’re not exactly with biggest supporters in my life,” he started awkwardly, glancing up at Bones, who was looking at him with a mixture of concern and interest, “My dad was a soldier, and he was in Vietnam.  He lived through that hell, but just after I was born, something in him snapped I guess, and he ended up taking his own life.  Drove off a bridge.  Drunk, I think, even though they said it was suicide.  My mother always sort of held him up as a saint to my brother and I, and my brother knew him better than I did, so he always held him as a role model.  I mean, I never even met the man, he died the night that I was born. 

            “It effected my mom a lot, like you would think, but she wasn’t around much when I was growing up.  She’s a lawyer, and goes all over the country working with super-rich clients, finding them tax loopholes or whatever it is she does.  She remarried this guy, Frank, and it was mostly just him, my brother, and me.  It wasn’t the happiest family.  Frank, he’s not the nicest guy,” Jim paused, wondering if he should really tell the truth.  He decided that he should hold off on part of it, at least for now.

            “We just…never got along.  Sam eventually enlisted in the army, and he was the stars in my mother’s eyes.  I just got into a lot of trouble, and when Sam was killed in Afghanistan, I couldn’t take it anymore.  My mother wouldn’t look at me, like she thought it should have been me.  I think Frank agreed with her; he’d always like Sam better than me.  I had no friends; I had nothing except a criminal record, so I picked up and moved to Georgia.  So that’s my family background, it’s really depressing, I know.”

            He looked at his plate again, wondering if he had already gone too far and given Bones more information than he really wanted.  But then Bones’ hand is on top of his, and Jim looks up at him to see such warmth in his eyes that it made Jim himself feel warm all over.

            “I get it Jim, I’ve got family history too; you don’t have to worry about scaring me off with stuff like that.”

            “What’s your family like, then?”

            Bones looked more than a little uncomfortable, and he said,

            “Look, Jim, I’d like to save that for another date, if that’s okay with you.”

            “So I’m getting another date then?”

            “Only if you behave.”

            “Well shit.  There goes that date, then.”

            Bones laughed and they fell into easy conversation once again.

            When they had finished dinner, they drove home and took a walk in the still untamed orchard.  It had a sort of beauty about it, but Jim could tell that it would look better when the trees were controlled.  It was a chilly night, the trees were just starting to lose their leaves, but they walked close together, hands intertwined, and whispered together in the dark, as though they were afraid the trees would listen in.

            After about thirty minutes, it had gotten far too cold to remain outside, and they walked back inside, shedding their coats at the door, and going straight into the library.  Bones poured them each a glass of bourbon, and Jim sat on the edge of his seat, sipping it and talking a blue streak.

            “Soon it’ll be cold enough to start a fire,” Jim said excitedly, “There’s plenty of wood outside, it’ll be really nice to have a few fires going in these grates.”

            Bones was surveying him over the top of his glass, a half smile on his face.

            “You talk like a five year old sometimes, you know that, right?”

            “Oh, come on, Bones!  It’s wintertime!  Which means Christmas!  Which means the most fun holiday of the entire year!  What’s the chance we could get Jo for Christmas?  It could be so much fun, just the three of us.  I bet you could make a mean turkey.  I can actually make a pretty good gravy, I bet even you would deign to eat-”

            His chattering was cut off by Bones’ lips against his.  They hadn’t kissed since that first time, and this kiss was already shaping up to be better than the last.  There was still the taste of bourbon in their mouths, but there was also a residual chill from the walk in the orchard, and a faint taste of garlic from the restaurant.  It was like their entire evening was summed up in one glorious, flawless kiss.  Bones bore down on him, pinning him to the chair, and Jim responded in kind by threading his hands through Bones’ hair and pulling.  Bones groaned quietly and Jim almost groaned in return just by the sound.  Bones chose that moment to pull away from Jim’s mouth and started to kiss and suck on the exposed part of his neck.  Jim leaned in again, hands still in Bones’ hair, and his jaw went slack at the sensation of Bones sucking on his collarbone.

            Bones’ hands ran down his sides and Jim moaned unrestrainedly.  He was hard now, there was no denying it, and so was Bones; he could feel his erection pressing into his leg.  It seemed like they were moving a little fast, but then Bones’ hands moved to his crotch, and Jim forgot about everything except Bones’ hands and his lips.  Bones was starting to inch the dark jeans and the light briefs underneath them off and Jim tried to wriggle to get them off faster, but Bones only gave him a devilish grin that told him to be patient.  More than one part of Jim was protesting to the “be patient” idea, but he didn’t really have a choice, because Bones was totally in control.  It was maddening.

            Bones took the time to kiss every inch of skin he exposed, and Jim almost wanted to lean forward and tell him hurry the fuck up before he did the job himself, but all he could do was revel in the sensation of Bones’ lips against his skin. 

            Bones was just exposing the good stuff when the unthinkable happened: Bones’ phone rang.

            “Oh for fuck’s sake Bones, don’t answer it,” Jim almost snapped as Bones reached instinctively for the device.  Bones ignored him, looked at the caller ID, and answered in a completely normal voice for a man who was about to give Jim a blowjob,

            “Dr. Leonard McCoy speaking.”

            Jim heard a frantic voice on the other end of the phone, and Bones immediately got his “I’m a serious doctor no one bother me” face on, and Jim just had to lie there with his pants halfway down and with a raging hard on, staring imploringly at Bones as Bones pointedly looked the other direction.

            “Okay, okay Matilda; I’ll be over there in half an hour.”

            He hung up the phone.

            “Are you kidding me, Bones?  You’re about to blow me and now you have to leave?  Is this some elaborate plot to get you out of giving me a blowjob?”

            “No, Jim,” Bones muttered, looking around for his bag and trying to conceal his own erection, to no avail, “But one of my patients has had a seizure and she wants me there before she takes her to the hospital.  I have to go; I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

            Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked quickly from the room, closing the front door behind him.  Jim heard his truck start and pull out of the driveway.  He sat there for a few minutes, unable to move, until he finally sat up and went to take a cold shower.

            He considered sleeping in Bones’ bed that night, but his head had cleared during his shower and wasn’t full of bourbon, the feel of Bones and the musty smell of the library chair; he realized that they were going a little too fast, and though that was usually Jim’s style, he wanted to take things slower with Bones.  He wanted t enjoy bones, and he knew Bones wanted to enjoy him, so fucking after their first date wasn’t the best step towards that.  Jim wanted to, god knew he wanted to fuck Bones into the ground and have Bones do the same to him, but it didn’t feel right to do it so quickly.  It sounded stupid and cliché, but he wanted it to be special.

            Jim scribbled his longest note to Bones ever and tacked it on his door before going to bed.

                        _Heya, Bonesy.  I don’t know about you, but I had a great time last night, and I think we should do it again, but looking back on things, I think we may have been moving a little too fast.  You know I’m not one to say stuff like that, but it just didn’t feel quite right, at least after the fact.  I want to take my time with you, and screwing you right now wouldn’t be doing that, even though I would have liked nothing more last night._

_Yours,_

_Jim._

            He hoped it sounded all right, and he hoped he didn’t seem like he was backing off because he didn’t want Bones, because he did, he just wanted Bones in the right way, at the right time, and for Jim Kirk, that was shocking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a request for a picture of the house (that started it all), so here you guys go!  
> http://kisskirkbangbones.tumblr.com/tagged/lilly-writes-stuff
> 
> Beta: TheCaitlin


	6. Chapter 6

            When he woke, he could hear Bones snoring through the wall, and knew that he must have at least registered the note on his door, even if he didn’t read it.  He wasn’t going to even attempt to make coffee, because he had been spoiled by Bones’, but headed straight outside after he’d dressed and went to go work on the orchard, since he had finally finished painting the house.  He had worked on pruning the back trees for about two and a half hours when he heard Bones calling his name.

            He came out of the orchard to find Bones, still in his pajamas, and holding two steaming mugs of coffee.  Jim grinned at him as he took his and said,

            “Morning, Bones.  Everything go all right last night?”

            “Well obviously not, because I had to leave halfway through taking off your pants, but if you’re talking about the patient, she’s fine; it was some sort of reaction to some medication she’d been taking.”

            “You get my note?”

            “Yeah,” said Bones, looking down, “And you’re right.  I was drunk, basking in the glow of my first real date since the divorce, and I just-”

            “You haven’t gone on a _date_ since you got divorced?  Bones, that’s five years.”

            “I know how long it is, kid, I’ve been into some more hard and fast sort of deals since then.”

            “So I’m your official rebound,” Jim said, smirking, “I’m honored.”

            “Shut up,” Bones aimed a slap at his head, but Jim ducked, downed his coffee, kissed Bones on the cheek and sprinted back into the orchard.

            The weeks leading up to Christmas were fantastic in Jim’s humble opinion.  He got Bones to put fires on in the evenings, and made him drag out the old Christmas decorations in December.  He didn’t have much, and Jim went to go get a tree and some lights for it one day, and put it up and decorated it by himself, so that when Bones came back from taking care of patients all day, he found a house that was decorated from top to bottom.  There were lights and greenery wrapped around the balcony and around the columns on the first floor.  More greenery and lights on the banisters, and a Christmas tree in the library, complete with antique ornaments from the house.  It was, surprisingly for Jim, not overdone, and Bones kissed him under the mistletoe he had strung above the library door.

            About a week before Christmas, Jocelyn called again, and gave Bones a better Christmas present than Jim ever could have.  He bounded into the room, looking more like than Jim than his usual grumpy self.

            “Jocelyn just called,” he announced to Jim, who was reading a book in the library, “She wants to spend Christmas with her new boyfriend’s family, and Jo has refused point blank to go, so she asked if we could take her.  Looks like we need to start Christmas shopping.”

            “That is so awesome, Bones!” Jim cried, grinning from ear to ear.  Bones’ smile was still blinding, and Jim thought that if Jocelyn knew how happy she had made Bones, she might have a heart attack.

            The next week was full of planning presents for Joanna.  It was pretty much toys, toys, and more toys.  Bones didn’t usually spend money like that (though it was obvious he had no lack of it), but he was the biggest sucker in the world for his daughter.  He would stare at Amazon for what seemed like hours, looking at things for Jo and asking Jim’s opinion when he was would come inside the house to get a drink.  Jim grinned like an idiot every time he asked for advice, because it really showed that Bones was a great big softie at heart, and Jim loved that.

            He, as always, refused to come home for Christmas when he called his mother.  She probably wasn’t going to be at home anyway, and he’d rather be anywhere rather than spending Christmas with Frank.

            Jo arrived two days before Christmas, and Jocelyn once again looked as though she had to constantly smell something terrible.  Bones didn’t pay attention to her, though; he was far too excited about having Joanna for Christmas to pay attention to his bitch of an ex-wife.  Joanna ran straight to Bones’ arms when she arrived, without pausing to say goodbye to her mother.  Jim could tell this irked Jocelyn to no end, which made it all the more satisfying.

            That evening, Joanna ran around the house, putting tinsel that Jim had given her on everything in sight, and had to be carried to the dinner table by Jim, which of course started a huge tickle fight between Jim and Jo, which Bones had to break up by saying there would be no dessert of they didn’t eat their dinners. 

            It was all so domestic.  Jim woke the next morning to find a note on his door “ _You’re taking the next few days off._ ”  Jim grinned at the pronouncement and went downstairs to find Bones baking Christmas cookies and Joanna trying to put her hands in the cookie dough.

            “What’s all this, Bones?” Jim asked, smiling.

            “We can’t have Christmas without the cookies, Jim, you gotta know that.”

            “Well duh, how else will Santa find the house?”

            Joanna stopped trying to reach the cookie dough instantly, and regarded Jim with wide eyes.  Jim ruffled her hair and smirked at Bones over her head.

            “Come on, Jo, it’s Christmas Eve, Santa has to find the house somehow!”

            “He can only find it if you have cookies?” she asked, looking a little bit puzzled.

            “Yep!” Jim whispered wisely, ignoring Bones rolling his eyes.

            “Then why did he always find mommy’s house?  She never let us put out cookies at Christmas.”

            Shit.  Jim had to think really fast so that he didn’t inadvertently ruin Santa for an eight year old.

            “Well. There are some kids that Santa can find no matter where they are, cookies or not, and those kids are really really special.  And you _are_ really really special, so obviously Santa can find you anywhere.”

            Joanna looked as though she had learned the key to the universe.  She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet excitedly, and pulled on Bones’ arm.

            “Daddy, daddy, do you really think Santa will be here?”

            “Well, baby girl, that depends on if you’ve been a good girl this year.”

            “I have been!  I promise!” she exclaimed, looking imploringly at Jim, who shrugged at her.

            “Then Santa will come and bring you everything,” Bones said, turning from the stove and hoisting her up in his arms and spinning around.  She squealed and threw her arms around his neck.  Bones looked so totally happy that it almost was too cute to watch.  He set Joanna down like she was made of glass, and she ran off to go look longingly at the Christmas presents under the tree, as she had been doing since he had arrived.  Bones chucked after her, and then turned back to the cookie dough.

            “I never thought you would be this into Christmas.”

            “Christmas is different when you have a kid,” he said, simply, “It makes you want to make it the best it can be, for the kid, and you have fun in the process.”

            The rest of the day was filled with cooking and Jim and Joanna pestering Bones while he baked.  It ended with Jim throwing flour at Bones, and Bones threatening to hog-tie him in the orchard if he made a mess of the kitchen.  This left Jim and Joanna to go run around outside, with Bones watching almost exasperatedly from the kitchen window.  It was cold, and they were both forced into heavy coats by Bones, who was sometimes more protective than a mother hen.  They played tag, and Jim showed Joanna how to whittle wood, which they practiced until Bones called them in for dinner.

            “Thanks, mom,” Jim said cheekily, and Bones threw a towel in his face. 

            Dinner was a little shorter than usual, at least for Joanna, who was beyond eager to go to bed, just so she could wake up after Santa had come.  She did take the time to giggle at the Christmas sweater that Bones had chosen to don for the evening.  As they tucked her in that night, Jim reminded her,

            “Now, remember not to go downstairs to try and see Santa, otherwise he’ll leave and won’t leave any presents!”

            Joanna nodded, and she looked wide awake, but she seemed to take Jim seriously, which was fortunate, because he didn’t want to have to dress up as Santa for her.  They each kissed her on the forehead, and went downstairs to finish their own evening.

            “You’ve been really great with her, Jim,” Bones said, swilling his wine around his glass absentmindedly, “I don’t think she’s ever had a Christmas quite like this.”

            “That’s a good thing, right?”

            “Definitely a good thing.”

            “I’ve actually really liked it.  It kinda makes me feel like a really have a family.”

            “You do really have a family Jim.  You have me, and you have Jo, when she’s here.”

            Bones covered Jim’s hand with his own, and looked at him in a way that made Jim wanted to kiss him right then and there.  Kiss him and then rip off that stupid Christmas sweater with his teeth.  Baby steps, he reminded himself, baby steps were the key.  He wasn’t rushing things, even though everything Jim did made him want Bones even more.  They had gone on four dates so far, and Jim loved every single one, even the one where they watched reality television and ate popcorn the whole night.  When he was with Bones, everything was perfect and above all else, Jim wanted that part to last.

            They sat there for a while, holding hands, drinking wine, and enjoying the crackling of the dying fire.  Bones eventually sat up from a light doze and said,

            “We’d better put out those presents, or else Santa won’t be here this year and I really don’t think I can deal with a crying eight year old at five in the morning.”

            “Five in the morning?  What the hell are you talking about, Bones?  No one in their right mind gets up at five in the morning.”

            “Then you could argue that little kids aren’t in their right mind on Christmas day, Jim.  Jocelyn makes her wait until eight or nine, but I told her this time we could have a special Christmas and start as soon as she gets up.  But we only open one present at a time, that’s our rule.  Otherwise it would be over in ten minutes and take all the fun out of everything.”

            “Five in the morning, Bones?” Jim said, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten up that early.”

            “Welcome to parenthood, kid,” Bones grinned, clapping Jim on the shoulder as he put the bottle of wine away, “Anyway, you wouldn’t be able to sleep when she woke up; she can get kinda rowdy on Christmas.”

            “Isn’t she always rowdy?” Jim whispered as they headed upstairs, taking care to step quietly, so as not to wake Joanna.  Bones chuckled at that and gave Jim a chaste kiss at his door.

            “Get to bed, infant, we’re risin’ early.”

            They did indeed rise early that morning.  Joanna was kind enough to jump on Jim’s bed first shaking him and squealing,

            “Wake up, Uncle Jim!  It’s Christmas!”

            Jim grunted and wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over his head and go back to sleep, but he couldn’t do that to Jo; so he rolled over to find her already gone, and Bones leaning in the doorway in his pajama pants, running his hands through his hair and blinking sleep out of his eyes.

            “Coffee?” he grunted, and Jim noticed that his southern twang came out more when he was tired. 

            “Please,” Jim said, “I’ll hold off the little monster.”

            Joanna was practically vibrating with joy when Jim stumbled into the library, already sorting the packages by the tree into piles by the name on the tag.  Bones sauntered in a few minutes later, handing Jim his mug, and Joanna a cup of hot chocolate, ruffling her hair as he did so.  They both settled into chairs, and let Joanna tear into her first gift.

            Jim had never been a part of a Christmas like this one.  There was wrapping paper everywhere, but Joanna was polite and always waited for one of them to finish opening a gift before she opened another one. 

            Joanna eventually fell asleep among the pile of gifts she had received, and Bones and Jim watched her fondly, still sipping their coffee and listening to festive music on the antique radio Bones had.  Bones leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees, and pulled out a package from the side of his chair.  It was small, and terribly wrapped (Jim had done the wrapping for Joanna’s gifts), but he handed it to Jim with a small and slightly embarrassed smile.

            “For me, Bones?  Why, I feel downright special!” Jim said, and ducked the blow from Bones’ hand with a grin.

            He opened the little package, and found what looked like a fine gold watch on a chain in silken wrappings.  Upon opening it, he saw that it had the eight planets surrounding it, along with the sun, Pluto, the moon, and a tiny picture of the solar system.  Bones knew how much Jim loved the stars; space had always fascinated him, he had always wanted to work at NASA, and design new spaceships to explore the galaxy.  He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to do that now, but Bones had found him a little piece of space to carry around in his pocket.  He wanted to kiss Bones so badly it hurt, but Joanna was right there, and they still hadn’t told her anything about…them.  So Jim held off, but carded his fingers gently through Bones’ hair and whispered,

            “Thanks Bonsey, I love it.”

            Bones smiled again, and it was so blinding that Jim thought he had never seen anything so beautiful.  He pulled out his package for Bones and put it into his palm.  Bones tore open the little package to find a flute Jim had whittled himself.  It was carved with designs on the side, and had Leo Bones McCoy carved into it.  Bones blew into it slightly, and it made a sort of tune.  He smiled at it, and then smiled at Jim (Bones was all smiles today), and then leaned forward to press a small kiss at the base of Jim’s neck.  It was different, strange, and more than a little romantic, and the feel of it sent a shiver up Jim’s spine.  But just then, Joanna turned over in her sleep, clutching the unicorn plush they had given her.  Damn Bones and his all too seductive ways.

            The rest of the day was filled with cooking and eating, and Joanna insisting that she and Jim have a tea party with her and her new toys; so Jim sat there while Bones cooked in the kitchen, and actually had a great time at a tea party with no tea and little pink cups.  Joanna ran into the kitchen and insisted on taking a picture of Jim and Bones together in their Christmas sweaters with Bones’ camera, and they laughed together at her attempts to make the camera work.

            Christmas dinner was ready before pretty early in the evening, and they sat down to enjoy everything that Bones had made.  It was all delicious, and Bones had to rein both Jim and Joanna,

            “You two will make yourselves sick!” he exclaimed, as they both reached for third helpings of turkey.

            After dinner, dessert, and the arduous task of doing the dishes, they all settled down to watch the football game.  It was the McCoy tradition to watch the Ole Miss game on Christmas night.  Joanna sat on the floor, still playing with her new toys, and Bones was one hundred percent focused on the screen.

            “I swear,” he muttered halfway through the third quarter, “That new head coach is the worst thing that ever happened to Ole Miss.  I mean, he coaches all right, it’s been an all right season, but I just think he’s got a nasty look about ‘im.”

            He continued to mutter and curse as quietly as possible throughout the game, and Jim almost laughed at him, because Bones had hardly even paid attention to football once the season started, but Bones had said flat out that they had to watch this game.

            The Rebels lost, and Bones was seething over a terrible play in overtime that had lost them the game.

            “What terrible coachin’!  Did ya see that, Jim?  That’s the reason we can’t ever beat those sons-of-”

            He broke off, minding his mouth in front of Joanna, but she was too busy in her own little world to listen.  Bones sighed, looking at her and then checking his watch.

            “Baby girl, it’s been a big day, and I think it’s time for one little princess to go to bed.”

            Joanna looked up at them, and she eyes were already looking pretty heavy.  Bones scooped her up and Jim followed suit with her toys, and they made a procession back to her room.

            As Jim lay in bed that night, he stared at the watch sitting on his bedside table, and he decided that this was the best Christmas that he had ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, beta'd by TheCaitlin  
> And you can find pictures of the house here: http://kisskirkbangbones.tumblr.com/tagged/lilly-writes-stuff  
> Thank you all so much for your support!  
> And I did edit the day of the football rivalry game (it's supposed to be Thanksgiving day, not Christmas day), but it fit with the story a little better this way!


	7. Chapter 7

            Joanna left them again just after the New Year.  Jocelyn did not so much as even thank them for looking after her, but turned up with a sour face and an equally sour looking boyfriend, who Joanna gave a wide berth when she got in the car.  Bones didn’t seem as torn up over her leaving this time, but maybe it was because Jocelyn had hinted that she might need them to watch her again this summer while she and the boyfriend went on a cruise.

            Finally, Jim and Bones had the house to themselves again.  They spent their days working; Jim had finally started working on the porches and the improvement projects in the house, though it left the orchard and garden still unfinished.  Bones still liked to ride every morning, and sometimes Jim would sneak down and watch him, just to see his lithe body moving with the horse and to see Bones seem so at peace with everything around him.  The notes seemed to be growing in volume between them as well.  They found them for each other everywhere; in the stables, on the fridge, in their bathrooms, on their cereal bowls.  They became a staple of their life together, just like Bones’ coffee had.  They had started out as little reminders, but morphed into something different.  There would be little bits of rhymes on them now, at least from Bones, and song lyrics that Jim made Bones try and guess at the dinner table.  It was more like a game than anything else, and it was a game that both of them adored.

            They continued with their dates as well, finding things to do in and out of town.  They never made the drive to Atlanta; it was too far away and they didn’t want to get caught up in big city life, it wasn’t for either of them.  They spent several nights staring up at the stars, where Jim would explain how the planets moved, how stars worked, the physics of a supernova, and how a star became a black hole.  Bones always listened intently and with great interest, and he was the only person that had ever shown genuine interest in Jim’s passion.  Most nights for them ended with late-night TV and cuddling on the couch.  They were becoming more dependent on each other’s presence as time went on, and they were sure the other didn’t mind.  It was a sort of bliss, and Jim found himself wanting to stay with Bones forever.

            It was early spring by the time Jim finished the first porch construction; it had been a lot less stable than Jim had thought, and he had had to talk to a specialist about making it structurally sound.  The man had tried to convince Jim that he needed to come out and fix it, but Jim was certain he could fix it.  He had gotten a good deal of information from the internet as well, and had improved the structure a great deal.  When he had asked Bones if he thought it felt okay, his response had been, “Dammit Jim I’m a doctor not an architect.”  Jim thought they could put some nice furniture out there pretty soon, and he was working on finding some quality wood he could use to make some rocking chairs. 

            All in all, life was pretty good, and it was hard to believe that he had lived at the big house for a year.  He took the time to weed the garden, and planted zucchini, cucumbers, tomatoes, and jalapeno peppers.  It was just starting to bloom, and Bones was excited about cooking with fresh vegetables. 

            One fresh day in early May, Bones called Jim into the house and told him to get dressed.

            “Why?” Jim asked, looking down at his dirt covered clothes.

            “Because Jim, we’re goin’ to the pond.”

            “What pond?” Jim asked, perplexed.  He still had to finish sanding some pieces of wood for the second floor porch, and he wanted to weed the garden that day as well.

            “The pond that’s on this property.  It’s really pretty in spring, you’ll like it, I promise.”

            “But Bones, I have stuff to do today, I need to finish-”

            “No Jim, you’re takin’ the rest of the day off.  It’s Friday, call it an early start to the weekend.”

            Jim sighed, knowing that he was never going to get past Bones, stubborn bastard as he was.  Normally, it was Jim that had to drag Bones out of the house to do something, because he was usually so busy he thought he didn’t have time to leave the house unless he was going to tend to a patient.  Maybe he had rubbed off on Jim a little too much.  Jim went upstairs to change, and came down to meet Bones, who was holding a picnic basket.  They set off; going down yet another narrow path that Jim had never been down before.  Bones led the way, because he knew where they were actually going.  They walked for about half an hour before they reached a clearing, where they were faced with a green pond covered in lilies and a few ducks floating gently on the surface.  It was surrounded by magnolia trees on all sides, and was honestly one of the prettiest places Jim had ever been.

            They spread out under the shade of a magnolia tree and watched the water, which rippled a little in the breeze, sending the lilies circling the edge of the pond.  The ducks quacked and the leaves rustled, and Jim felt at peace with the world as he spied the lemonade that Bones had made.  They ate the sandwiches Bones had packed and talked quietly so as not to disturb the animals in the forest.

            Bones watched Jim as Jim watched the pond.  There was something in his eyes that was a little different than normal.  It was tender and…lustful?  They had been “together” for almost six months, and had never done more than…well, they hadn’t done much, which for Jim was an all-time record.  Bones reached out and ran his hand over Jim’s arm, barely touching, and Jim shivered slightly.  He looked at Bones, and leaned in to brush their lips together. 

            Bones leaned into Jim, lowering them both to the soft fabric of the blanket as he deepened the kiss.  Their tongues collided, and Jim’s hands ran down Bones’ sides, grasping at the hardness already developing in his jeans.  Bones moaned unashamedly into Jim’s mouth and started plucking at Jim’s shirt, which he tore off and threw to the side.  Bones removed his shirt as well, and then started undoing the buttons on Jim’s jeans, with a knee between Jim’s legs so he couldn’t close them, not that Jim was eager to do so.  He wriggled out of his jeans, and then watched as Bones undid his own jeans and tossed them aside as well on the growing pile of their clothing.  He paused to bite into Jim’s neck, knowing that they would leave bruises, and Jim returned in kind by raking his nails down Bones’ back.  Bones hissed into Jim’s collarbone and bit down, hard.  Before Jim could retaliate, Bones sat up, grinning down at him.  He bent down to kiss Jim again, passionately, with more force than he ever had, and then retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom from the picnic basket.

            “Someone came prepared,” Jim said rather breathlessly, his legs still spread and the feel of Bones lips still tingling on his skin.

            “You’re damn right I did,” Bones growled, kissing his way down Jim’s stomach, making him arch and groan in anticipation.

            Jim’s eyes made their way down Bones’ body, and, though he had definitely seen more than his fair share of male anatomy, he had to say that Bones’ cock was definitely bigger and better than anything he had ever encountered before.  But then that beautiful cock is out of sight when Bones lowers himself down and takes him in his mouth.  _Fucking shit_ Bones was good at this and he must know it and god damn it Bones hurry up this isn’t a slow-motion game.  But Bones his taking his sweet time, and then his mouth leaves Jim with a wet _pop_ and said in a gravelly voice,

            “You done this before?”

            “Yes Bones, now hurry the hell up before I finish the job myself.”

            Bones chuckled darkly and without further ado began to open Jim up.  Soon enough, he had one long, lube-slicked finger into Jim.  He continued to work at Jim until he had added another finger, and another, and another and Jim felt like he was going to come right then and there, his whole body was trembling.

            “Fuck, Leo.”

            Bones pulled back, looking utterly stunned.

            “What did you just call me?”

            “Uh, I don’t know.  It just…Bones is for everyday, you know.  That’s what I call you in front of Jo and your ex-wife and shit, but not here, not like this.”

            “Does this mean I can call you James?”

            Jim grinned.

            “You can call me whatever you want if you just hurry up.”

            Bones chuckled again and pushed gradually into Jim with an equally lubed cock, waiting a few seconds for Jim to become adjusted to the new pressure.  Then he began to gently rock, softly thrusting his hips and leaning down to drag his teeth over Jim’s collarbone, whispering  “James”  into his ear.  The use of his full name makes Jim want to come even more and his hissing into Bones’ ear,

            “Oh god faster Leo faster.”

            And he obliges and is hitting Jim’s prostate with almost every thrust and then Jim is coming and moaning Bones’ name and getting his come all over himself and the blanket and Bones comes not long after and bites into Jim’s shoulder as he does.

            They lie back on the blanket, watching the clouds go by, holding hands and not speaking.  Jim felt like he was going to fall asleep, with the warm pressure that Bones was giving on his hand, and the afterglow of sex, the world felt warm and happy, and Jim was happy, really happy.  Bones produced a towel from nowhere and gently mopped up the come and the sweat that covered them both.  Jim lay languorously in Bones’ arms and eventually fell into a doze.

            Jim wasn’t sure how long he slept, but Bones kissed him awake and said,

            “We should get back to the house.”

            Jim nodded sleepily and got up to pull on his clothes.  Bones didn’t move, but continued to watch Jim as he put on his clothes.

            “Enjoying the view?”

            “Yeah, you have a nice ass, James.”

            “Sex is over, Bones, we’re back to normal names.”

            “Aw, come on, James, don’t be a stick in the mud.”

            “I will beat your ass if you call me James outside of the bedroom.”

            Bones chuckled and gathered up the basket, reaching out to stroke the side of Jim’s face before he led the way back to the house.

            When Jim came down the stairs, he found Bones making dinner.  But dinner didn’t sound as appealing as sex.  So he employed his most subtle arts to make Bones abandon his cooking endeavors for sex with him.

            “Hey Bones, hey, you know what we should do?  There’s this amazing thing I want to show you, Bones, it’s actually the best thing you’ll ever see.”

            “And what’s the amazing thing, Jim?”

            “My dick.”

            Bones rolled his eyes and said,

            “Maybe later, kid.  I need some food before I have a repeat of that event.”

            “Oh come on,” Jim whined, grinning as he did so, “Bone me, Bones.”

            Bones choked and threw Jim out of the kitchen, but Jim swore that he saw Bones smile.

            Dinner that night didn’t last long.  Jim ran his fingers up Bones’ arm, and let his bare foot wander up Bones’ legs to the warmth of his inner thighs. 

            “God Jim.  Just fuck me already,” Bones moans with his eyes half-lidded and his cock already hard.

            “That can be arranged,” Jim hissed.

            The next thing he knew, Bones was pushing everything of the table and Jim pulled him onto it, tearing down his shorts with a borderline feral snarl.  They’re kissing and biting and Bones has both of their cocks in his hands and is squeezing with just enough pressure to make Jim want to go insane.  He thrust upward at the sensation, which created a friction that both made them gasp.  Bones is making noises that Jim didn’t even think were possible but he sure as hell isn’t about to stop him.  They come all over themselves and the kitchen table and Jim knows that Bones will bitch about that in the morning but he finds that he doesn’t really care.

            They didn’t lie there long, but dragged themselves off the table, ignoring the dishes that lay in pieces on the floor.  They sauntered upstairs to Bones’ bedroom and fell on his bed.  They fell asleep that night, wrapped around each other, and feeling each other’s heartbeats in their throats.

            Jim woke up the next morning to Bones’ mouth around his cock.

            “Fucking Christ, Leo,” he groaned, “You sure know how to wake a guy up.”

            Bones responded by continuing to give Jim the best blowjob of his entire life.  Bones said nothing but licked a stripe up Jim’s cock, his tongue flicking at the slit of it.  Jim fisted his hands in the sheets to keep himself from pulling Bones’ hair out of his head.  It didn’t take Jim long to come, and he sunk back into the pillows, panting as though he had just run a marathon.  Bones slid his way up to the head of the bed again, and surveyed Jim with immense satisfaction.  Jim wanted to say something condescending, but he was still too exhausted to do much of anything but let Bones run his fingers through his hair.  He made an attempt to get up and reciprocate, but Bones just said, softly,

            “That was for you, darlin’, don’t worry about me.”

            Jim slowly drifted back to sleep, and when he came to again, Bones was sitting up in bed, still naked, reading an article on his laptop with a cup of coffee in his hand.  Jim watched him for a while, slowly waking up, as Bones’ hand still carded its way gently through his hair.

            Jim shifted a little, and Bones looked at him and smiled,

            “Mornin’ sunshine, want some coffee?” he picked up Jim’s cup from the bedside table.  Jim sipped gratefully, and propped himself up on one elbow.

            “Does this mean I can move into this room?” Jim asked, eyeing Bones a little apprehensively, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his bounds.

            “Well if you’re not movin’ in here I’ll move in with you.”

            They grinned at each other, and Jim said,

            “Then put some clothes on and help me move my shit.”

            Bones groaned and seemed to sink deeper into the bed.

            “We can do that later, Jim.  I want to stay here all day and do unspeakable things to you.  And not one of those things involves clothing.  Get back here right now before your side of the bed gets cold.”

            Jim was not one to pass up sex, so he obliged and spent the entire day in bed with Bones, which consisted mostly of sex, making out, sex, watching TV, sex, and eating the food Bones had brought up when they broke apart for fifteen minutes.  It was up there with the best days of Jim’s life, and he fell asleep that night in post-sex bliss, nestled against Bones’ shoulder, listening to the heavy breathing of the man beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, beta'd by TheCaitlin  
> A link pictures of the house can be found at kisskirkbangbones.tumblr.com/tagged/lilly-writes-stuff


	8. Chapter 8

            Bones and Jim had become inseparable. They spent all their non-working time together, and always found a way to have a least one meal a day with each other. The next six months were full of changes for them both. Jim had officially finished working on the house, and Bones had decided to open it up as a sort of consulting office for himself. It meant that he didn’t always have to leave the house fourteen times a day, but it also meant that there was a pretty steady stream of people coming to see him.

            Jim and Bones had gotten to know a few of them, and he had really enjoyed meeting the young couple who were expecting their first child. The father, Spock, had been rigidly polite, but his wife, Nyota, had been all smiles and warm greetings. She wasn’t too far along, but had not wanted to go to a city-doctor, even though Spock had wanted to insist on it. She had wanted a more personal experience for herself and her child, though Bones had insisted that she see a qualified gynecologist when she was late in the pregnancy. He was perfectly qualified to take care of her at this stage, but when she was eight months pregnant, it was better for her to go to someone who could actually birth the child in a clean, completely sterile environment.

            They had also met a Scottish man with high blood pressure. “Scotty,” as Jim called him, was a riot and drank too much for his own good, but had been thoroughly impressed by the bourbon that Bones kept in the library. He had actually stayed to drink with them a few times, telling them tales of when he worked on military aircraft in Britain, and how he had fallen flat on his face when the queen came for an inspection.

            They met Hikaru Sulu, the math professor at the local college, whose angry allergies had been giving him more trouble than usual, and Pavel Chekov, the seventeen year old who was having an allergic reaction to something he was eating, and he couldn’t figure out what. They became friends with all of these unlikely people, so that they had more of a social life than before. They would go to dinner with Nyota and Spock, help Chekov with his homework (the poor kid didn’t really seem to have anyone else), and Jim would have “math-offs” with Sulu while Bones and Scotty drank in the corner.

            Bones and Jim knew everything about each other. Jim had held Bones and kissed him when Bones told him about his father,

            “If I had waited three more weeks, Jim, I could have saved him, but I gave in, and I killed my own father.”

            “Bones, it was what he wanted, you did the right thing.”

            “My mother couldn’t even look me in the eye when I did it. We never saw each other again after that, especially since she had been so fond of Jocelyn and, to use her words, ‘I had managed to muss than one up as well.’ I went to her funeral, and they asked me my relationship to her, and when I said I was her son, they said that she didn’t have one.”

            Jim had also told Bones about what really happened to him and his brother. He showed Bones the faint scars from the belt-lashings, and Bones had kissed them as though he could kiss away the phantom pain of those lashes. He told Bones about how Sam used to stand in front of him, protect him, when he was younger, but that, eventually, he seemed to decide that Jim could handle it himself. He told Bones about how he had run wild when Sam had left, and that he had fought and fucked his way through Iowa, landing himself in juvenile detention and then prison a handful of times. _The only genius level repeat offender in the Midwest_.

            It wasn’t easy for either of them. They hadn’t been honest with someone, even with themselves for a long, long time. But it sort of felt like now they weren’t alone, that they had someone to confide in. They fought constantly, over stupid things, little things. It was hard for them to realize that they didn’t have to push each other away, but eventually they did. Eventually, the fights turned into bickering, like the old married couples did, and they found that they didn’t mind.

            Bones was the first one to say “I love you.” They were sitting on the porch swing that Jim had made, sipping tea and watching the trees sway in the late autumn wind, blowing leaves everywhere. It was a quiet, still afternoon, and Jim felt at peace with the world, with Bones by his side, rubbing his hand a little. It came out of nowhere, like the summer showers in Georgia, the words seemed to fall off Bones’ tongue as though he hadn’t even expected them.

            “I love you, Jim.”

            Jim paused for half a beat, glanced at Bones, whose eyes were wide and had a hint of hope in them.

            “I love you too, Bones.”

            Tension rolled off his shoulders, and he leaned into Jim’s shoulder, grinning.

            It was two months after the exchange of those all too important words, when everything fell apart.

            Jim came into the house after a long day of furniture making, sweaty even though there was a chill in the air. It was like any other evening with Bones; they had dinner, watched TV, Bones worked in his laptop, and Jim read, nothing was out of the ordinary.

            Bones looked up from his laptop, and smiled at Jim, smiled at him in a way that he never had before. It was a smile filled with love, lust, hope, and joy all at the same time. Jim smiled back, a little confused, but pleased all the same, as Bones stood up and made his way towards him. He sat down in the chair next to him, and began playing with his hands awkwardly, trying to find the right words to say.

            “Listen Jim, we’ve known each other almost two years now, and I’m pretty sure it’s been the best two years of my life.”

            Jim smiled again but said nothing, letting Bones take the reins on this conversation.

            “And, I’ve realized that there is no possible way for me to live without you. You make me better, a better person, a better everything. You transformed this house and you transformed me, and I don’t think that I can ever thank you enough for it.”

            Jim stared at Bones. Surely, _surely_ , Bones was not about to do what he thought he was going to do.

            “And I just thought,” said Bones, sliding down onto one knee and pulling out a ring box, a fucking ring box, “that even though we can’t get married in Georgia, we could go to New York or California, find some judge to sign a little piece of paper for us. I mean, I know it’s not everything, but it would mean a lot to be married, really married to you. So what do you say, kid, wanna go for it?”

            Jim said nothing for what felt like forever. No. This isn’t what he wanted. No. He loved Bones, he did, but he didn’t want to be trapped in this house forever, tied to somebody. What about his dreams? They suddenly all came crashing back to him. He had spent so much time thinking about Bones that he had forgotten why he had taken this job in the first place. He wanted to travel, go to school, and live his own life. He didn’t want this. This wasn’t him, this couldn’t be him.

            “No, Bones,” he whispered, as though whispering it would lessen the blow, Bones looked as though someone had just slapped him across the face.

            “No,” it wasn’t a question; it was a simple statement of fact.

            “I-I can’t do this, Bones. Not, not right now. I need to-to go live my own life, on my own, and go to school, do what I wanted to do when I started working here. I didn’t bargain on this, I didn’t bargain on you. It’s-I’m so sorry, Bones, but I can’t do that, I can’t marry you.”

            He got up and left the room, and left Bones frozen, still kneeling where he had been, holding the ring. Jim sprinted upstairs and gathered his things from the room he and Bones had shared for eight months now. He slid into his old room and closed the door. He collapsed onto the bed, shaking with silent sobs. His thoughts pierced his mind like knives. What had he just done? He’d just ruined everything. Two years of working together to make an amazing, successful relationship, and he had thrown it all down the drain. He thought about going downstairs and apologizing, about telling Bones he hadn’t meant it and living happily ever after in one place for the rest of his life. The adventurer that still remained in him would not allow that, so he stayed where he was. Eventually, he heard the door next to him close with a snap and he sank onto his bed, knowing that neither of them would sleep that night.

            By four in the morning, he had thrown all of his possessions in a bag. He grabbed his keys, opened his door, and stuck one last note to the front of Bones’ door. Then, without looking back, he walked down the stairs, opened the door, got in his truck, and tore down the driveway. If he had looked in the rearview mirror, he would have seen Bones standing, still fully dressed, on the front porch, clutching the note that said, _I’m sorry, Bones_ in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it's been several months since my last update, and I do apologize but school and such has been hectic, and I simply have not found the time to update!  
> We are very near the end, and I do hope you enjoy the rest of the story!  
> As always, beta'd by TheCaitlin  
> A link pictures of the house can be found at kisskirkbangbones.tumblr.com/tagged/lilly-writes-stuff


	9. Chapter 9

Fifteen Years Later

            “Jim, my darling! How long has it been? Are you coming to that party tonight? Gaila says it’s going to be fabulous!”

            Carol Marcus kissed him, and, led him through the lobby of the hotel they had picked to have dinner. Posh, fancy, full of people darting around in heels and suits, exactly what Carol Marcus would have picked. Jim himself was in a respectable suit and tie, which, at one point in his life, he had hated, but was now part of his daily routine as one of the top physical astronomy professors in the western world. Suits, ties, parties, dinners, talks, and teaching classes were all a part of him now. Traveling to London for a speech on the properties of dark matter was nothing new. Jim’s life was how he had always imagined it; exploring space and traveling the world at the same time.

            He and Carol (who was also a physicist, but specialized in technology rather than astronomy) caught up over their fancy dinner. They spoke about the conference they were both speaking at, who would be there, the parties they would attend, the people they had meetings with, and the promising students they had to teach back at their respective universities (hers being Oxford and his being Princeton). She was flirty as serious and playful at the same time, as she always was, and Jim kept her at arm’s length, as he always did. He picked up the bill, as usual, and escorted her to Gaila’s (a molecular biologist) party.

            It was, as Carol has said, fabulous. Gaila’s posh London flat had been decorated top to bottom and was full of waiters, glasses of champagne, and the best and brightest scientists in the world. Jim spent his time mingling, chatting with friends, and discussing the latest astronomical news with the other astrophysicists. Ten years and a PHD in astrophysics from Princeton did have its perks. He stayed at the party until it was polite to leave, and then excused himself to prepare his talk for the next day.

            His talk went splendidly, and he stayed around for the parties and the talk, enjoying the people he was around and the conversations he was a part of. Then, halfway through a talk on the composition of black holes and what the scientific community could gain through further study of them, Jim’s phone received a call from a Georgia number. His stomach dropped, and he was sure he went deathly pale. He looked around, made sure no one had seen, and diligently ignored the call.

            That night, in his hotel room, he stared at the missed call and voicemail icon on his phone, and put his head in his hands. How was it that, after fifteen fucking years he still couldn’t think about Georgia without getting a pit in his stomach? How was it that, even after all that time, he felt like he was going to throw up when anyone mentioned Ole Miss? And when someone from Georgia called him, he couldn’t even pick up the phone? That even though he had everything he had ever wanted and more, he still felt like a broken mirror? He looked at the picture he always carried with him, the one that he ran a thumb over during his lectures, the one that sat beside his notes when he gave a talk, the one that was taken almost sixteen years ago on Christmas day, the picture of Jim and… and Leonard McCoy in ugly Christmas sweaters. He sighed, shut off his phone, and got under the covers of his bed without bothering to get undressed.

            He ignored the voicemail for three days, but always felt his stomach twist with guilt every time he saw the little icon on his phone. He drowned himself in the life he had created for himself, the life without attachments, full of achievements but with nothing permanent relationship-wise, the life that he had always wanted. He went to parties, kissed strange women in bars, flirted with everything on legs, and was, as always, the incomparably brilliant James T. Kirk. He ignored the icon and his guilt by pulling up the battle-worn walls around his broken heart and pretending that everything was fine.

            On a sunny London morning, he caved and listened to the voicemail, the voice in the message was thick with tears and anger,

            _This is Joanna McCoy, looking for Jim Kirk. My father, Leonard McCoy is sick, very sick, and has told me to try and contact you. He wants you to come see him, but can understand if you are too busy. He wants you to know that it would mean a great deal to him if you could come, and that you know where to go. Once again, this is Joanna McCoy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay yeah I know, nearly two years is a long time to not update something, especially when you've had the story finished the whole time. There's only one more chapter after this, and I can't thank those of you who have followed this story for this long enough. So, here you guys go, and I will probably post the last chapter later today or tomorrow.  
> Chapter is, as always, beta'd by TheCaitlin.


	10. Chapter 10

            Jim didn’t even listen to the whole message, but threw everything in his suitcase, and called the airline for the first ticket to Atlanta that was available. The flight left in three hours.

            Jim arrived in the Atlanta airport just under nine hours later, and retrieved his luggage and a rental car immediately. He didn’t stop on his way to Bones’ house, their house, and sped the entire way there, as if by getting there sooner, he could fix Bones faster.

            He turned into the driveway with its patched stonework, and up the driveway with its manicured trees, and into the yard with the garden starting to bloom and the magnolia tree’s flowers starting to burst. He stepped out of the car and felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He ran his finger over their photograph, as he always did when he was nervous, and walked up the stairs to the front porch, which looked the same as it had fifteen years ago. The porch swing where Bones had first said he loved Jim was swinging gently in the breeze as Jim knocked on the door.

            A young woman opened the door. She was much, much older than the last time Jim had seen her, with straight, blonde hair that tumbled past her shoulders, and kind, hazel eyes just like her father’s. Joanna, so beautiful, but already worn with worry as though she had suffered too much already in her young life. She didn’t smile or hug him in greeting as she once had, but looked at him and said, not bothering to mask the undertone of hostility in her voice,

            “You decided to come, then.”

            Jim decided to ignore the jab at him and said, simply,

            “Where is he?”

            Joanna wordlessly led him upstairs, and Jim tried to ignore the tightness in his throat as he looked around the house. They walked upstairs to the bedroom that he and Bones had once shared, so long ago. She opened the door and murmured,

            “Daddy, someone’s here to see you.”

            She stood back to let Jim past, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at him as she did. He didn’t blame her.

            The room was completely changed. The bed had been taken out and replaced by a standard hospital bed. There were tubes, bottles, and beeping machines everywhere. What had changed the most, however, was Bones. He was sitting up in the bed, propped up on several pillows, one thin hand lying on top of the sheets. His once thick hair was gone now, replaced by a blue bandana that covered his bald head. His t-shirt hung loosely off his shoulders, and his eyes were glassy.

            “Jim,” he breathed hoarsely, coughing gently as he did so. Jim knelt by the bed, taking Bones’ emaciated hand as he did so. He said nothing; there was nothing he could say.

            “Makes that stupid nickname make more sense,” Bones whispered, clearly holding off another cough, “I really am just a bag of bones.”

            “I-Bones, what-”

            “Lung cancer. Stage IV. Guess all that smoking in my twenties caught up with me.”

            Jim rested his head on Bones’ hand, guilt crushing him like a giant, immoveable boulder.

            “Bones-”

            “I don’t need any more apologies, I get plenty of those from everyone else around here.”

            Jim said nothing, but reached out and stroked Bones’ thin face. He was cold, and he closed his eyes and hummed gently against Jim’s touch, and, for a second, it felt like the world righted itself.

            In the following weeks, Jim became Bones’ round the clock nurse. He hardly ever left his bedside, and did anything and everything for him that he could. Joanna said that he just liked the company, and they spent a good amount of time watching sports of playing Texas Hold’em on Bones’ bed. They did their best to make him comfortable, but stage IV lung cancer wasn’t something you could ever prepare for. Bones’ doctor, M’Benga, showed up to the house every week to check in on him. Bones hated these visits, because they made him feel “inferior” but Joanna had insisted, and after all these years, Bones was still wrapped around her fingers. Jim would sit with him and hold his hand, as M’Benga talked about charts and X-Rays, and certain options Bones had. Bones included Jim in all of these decisions, and when Jim had voiced that he didn’t feel he had the right to make them, he and Bones had ended up having a long, long talk that involved apologies that had nothing to do with Bones’ illness.

            About a month after Jim had arrived, M’Benga was just finishing his visit, when he asked to see Jim downstairs. Before Jim could respond, Bones snapped,

            “Whatever you got to say, _Doctor_ , you can say to me. Over thirty years as a medical doctor has taught how to keep it together.”

            M’Benga sighed, knowing that he would never convince Bones to change his mind,

            “Leonard, I’m going to be blunt; your time is running out. The last scans we did were not at all promising, the last round of chemo seems to have done next to no good. The tumors in your lungs have, as you both know, spread, and you are honestly very lucky that your brain has been spared. You don’t have much time and I wanted to talk about some alternative options you have. I know that you are very attached to this house, and that you would like to remain here, but there are some excellent hospice options in the area, and they could-”

            “I want to die in the house I lived in, M’Benga.”

            “I understand that, Leonard, but the longer this goes on, the harder it will be to care for you, and I’m sure Jim will agree that-”

            “Bones is staying where he’s comfortable, and that’s here.”

            M’Benga sighed again, and, looking though he was swallowing something bitter, said,

            “As I said, your last scans were not promising, and I would give you, optimistically, a month. And you might have to be rushed to the hospital in case your lungs need to be drained of fluid again. I can give you a list of hospice options in case you change your mind.”

            Jim’s eyes flitted to Bones, who remained impassive, but Jim could sense that a blowup was coming, and soon. Jim had been seeing the anger bubbling under Bones’ surface for weeks, and knew it was only a matter of time before it made an appearance.

            The explosion happened nearly two weeks later, when Bones was hardly able to get up anymore. He could hardly walk because his own body was turning against him. His bones ached, and though he was taking ever pill known to man, that didn’t do much for him. Being Bones, however, he was insistent that he could get up by himself and take care of his basic needs, thank you very much, Jim.

            Against his better judgment, Jim let him do it, and had said he would be just down the hall if Bones needed anything at all.

            It wasn’t long before Jim heard a terrible crash and came sprinting into the bathroom to find Bones sprawled on the floor. He was fallen, grabbed the towel rack, and had pulled it down along with some glass bowls on the counter, which had shattered and cut Bones’ hands. His hands were bleeding and he was shaking when Jim knelt beside him with the first aid kit in his hands. Bones pushed him away with as much vigor as he had left and snapped,

            “Dammit Jim, I’m a doctor; I can do it myself.”

            “Bones,” Jim implored, “You can’t do everything yourself. Let me-”

            “I can’t do _anything_ myself, Jim! I can’t clean the house, I can’t cook, I can’t ride, I can’t walk outside, hell, I can’t even walk to the fucking bathroom. I’m-I’m useless, Jim.”

            “No, Bones! No you’re not, you- look at me, you’ll never, ever be useless. I underst-”

            “You don’t understand, Jim, you cannot understand. I’m _dying_. I won’t be here much longer, and I’m scared as hell. I’m not supposed to be this afraid, I’m a doctor, I’ve seen far more death than most people can imagine. I killed my own father! I’ve seen death in every form, but I can’t deal with it myself. I’m so fucking weak I can’t even own up to the fact that I’m dying. I keep thinking they’ll find some radical new treatment that can fix stage IV lung cancer; keep hoping this isn’t the end for me. But it is, Jim. I’ll never see Joanna settle down and get married; I’ll never be able to grow old with you. It’s over for me, and I can’t even walk outside and ride my damn horse to take my mind off things. So no, Jim, you don’t understand what it’s like to be dying.”

            He was breathing hard, seconds away from a coughing fit. His hands were still bleeding, but he had clenched them into fists as he spoke. Jim gently took them and, without saying anything, began to bandage them. He then helped Bones to his feet, and guided him to his bed. He placed a soft kiss on the edge of Bones’ mouth, and left without a word. He may not be able to help Bones beat cancer, but he could, at least, make his remaining time the best that it could be.

            It was several days after Bones’ outburst that Jim set his plan in motion. He woke Bones, gave him his morning medication, and then lifted Bones up as easily as if he were a rag doll.

            “Christ, Jim, what are you doing?”

            “It’s a surprise.”

            He carried Bones down the path to the stables, where Bones’ horse was standing, saddled and waiting, with a mounting block placed by his side. Bones’ eyes widened in his thin face and he whispered,

            “But, Jim, I can’t-”

            “Not by yourself, Bones, but I’m going to help you.”

            Jim set Bones on the saddle, and then swung himself up as well, settling himself behind Bones as Bones held the reins in his hands.

            “Darlin’ I-”

            “I can lead the way if you want.”

            “No,” Bones whispered, “No, I can do it.”

            They set off, Jim holding Bones in place as they made slow circles around the paddock. Bones was still a complete natural, and only occasionally needed Jim’s help to make the little gelding go a little faster. Jim had to hold Jim back, making sure he didn’t do too much too fast, but the air and the fact that he was back on his horse seemed to give Bones new life, and he sat up straighter and straighter the longer they rode.

            Eventually, Jim had to bring them to a halt, because he was worried about Bones being up and about for so long. He carried Bones into the house, and set him on his bed. Bones reached for his hand, his eyes full of tears and said in a small voice,

            “Thank you, Jim, so much.”

            Jim smiled at him, hoping he didn’t look too broken; he was supposed to be the strong one after all.

            As the days slipped by, Bones’ condition gradually worsened. He coughed more, slept less, and started having trouble keeping his medication down. Jim stayed up all night sometimes, watching Bones, making sure he was all right during the night.

            Joanna was in and out of the house, but always took time to sit with Bones for a while, to read to him, or to tell him what was going on in her life. She was studying to be a doctor, and Bones couldn’t have been more proud of her.

            One evening, Jim and Bones were sitting together, Jim reading to Bones from an old storybook, since he seemed to like those best nowadays, when Bones whispered.

            “I love you, Jim.”

            “And I love you, Bones.”

            “Wish we could stay here forever.”

            “Me too, Bones. Maybe if we try hard enough, we can.”

            “You’ve been reading those storybooks too long, darlin’.”

            Jim merely smiled, and continued to read, watching Bones slowly fall asleep to the sound of his voice.

            Jim jerked awake in the middle of the night; the machines had stopped beeping, and had suddenly gone flat. Jim scrambled up and held Bones face,

            “Bones? Bones! Stay with me, Bones, stay with me. You can’t go yet, Bones, you can’t go yet. I love you, Bones, I love you so much. Please don’t leave me, Bones. I’m all alone without you. Please, Bones, please.”

            Bones was gone. Joanna had called an ambulance when she had run in to see what was going on. They didn’t even try to revive him.

            Jim found a note on Bones’ bedside table that morning.

                        _I’m so sorry, Jim. I love you._

_Bones_

            They made the funeral arrangements that day. Jim couldn’t feel anything. They ordered the flowers. He screamed in his sleep. They called the people who needed to be called. He reached for a hand that wasn’t there. They told them he was to be cremated. Jim rubbed his picture until it faded at the edges.

            The funeral was quiet, only a few people Bones really knew were invited. Jim got a lot of condolences from people with good intentions. They had lots of food back at the house, in accordance to the southern tradition of sending people food when someone in their family died.

            Joanna left that day, kissing Jim and hugging him like she used to. She said that there was something in Bones’ closet for him, something that Bones had left him. He dragged himself up the stairs to the now empty room and opened the closet door. There was a note that said _Jim_ at the top of a box, and Jim sat down on the floor and opened it.

            The box was full of colored notes. Notes of every shape and size. Short notes and long ones. Every one was in Bones’ handwriting. At the very top, there was a sheet of paper different from the rest and it said,

            _Jim,_

_This is every one I missed after fifteen years._

_Yours always,_

_Leonard_

            Jim read them all feverishly, as though he could somehow bring Bones back if he read them with enough vigor.

            _I wish you would take out the damn trash. Do the laundry, it’s starting to smell. We should walk to the pond today; it’s such a nice day. I want to watch the Rebels game tonight. Let’s go out to eat tonight. Let’s go look at the stars sometime. I love you. Come back to me, please. I need you._

Jim sobbed as he read the notes, and shook uncontrollably on the floor of the bedroom that had once been theirs. He fell asleep that night on the floor, surrounded by notes and Bones’ voice in his head, whispering to him in the dark.

            He woke up the next morning and went downstairs, straight to the library, where he retrieved a pen and some paper, before sitting down in his old chair and writing his last note to Bones. Some might call it a letter, but he and Bones didn’t write letters, they wrote _notes_. That’s how it had always been with them, from the very beginning, and it wasn’t about to change now.

            _Bones,_

_The funeral was yesterday, but I guess you probably knew that. I think it was more for Jo than anyone else. She went back to Atlanta after the funeral; school starts in a few days. I miss your coffee, and I hope it’s okay if I take my mug back to New Jersey with me. I think Jo’s going to sell the house. Seems like the right thing to do, someone else needs to make some memories in it. I still see you everywhere, that’s probably not healthy, but I can’t ask my doctor anyway. I know I didn’t say it nearly enough, but I love you, Bones. I always will, too. No matter what. I just wanted you to know that, before I go back to being Professor James Tiberius Kirk instead of your Jim. Thank you for all the memories, Bones, they’ll keep me going for god knows how long. I love you._

_Jim_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who kept reading this story, even if it seemed like I would never finish it. For those of you wondering, the house is still there, still in disrepair, and still completely beautiful. Every time I pass it I smile and think of Bones and Jim. I have loved writing this story, and I may add some things to it one day.  
> This whole story was beta'd by The Caitlin, who edited the whole thing with clip art and sass, which is why she is the greatest and my fave.  
> If any of you want to see a picture of the house, you can see it at http://maxierockatansky.tumblr.com/tagged/lilly-writes-stuff  
> You can also drop by and talk to me about the story/literally anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from a huge plantation house near mine, and it looked like the perfect place for a Bones/Jim story.  
> Beta'd by the incomparable TheCaitlin.


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